Stargate: Athena, Volume One
by ReganX
Summary: Sam’s adventures continue when she is given command of Earth’s newest ship. Cowritten with SionnachOghma
1. Part I

**Title: **Stargate: Athena

**Authors: **ReganX and SionnachOghma**  
**

**Rating:** PG/K+

**Spoilers:** Everything from 'Stargate: Sg-1' and 'Stargate: Atlantis' is fair game, spoiler-wise.

**Summary: **Sam's adventures continue when she is given command of Earth's newest ship.

**Feedback: **Feedback is more than welcome, flames are not.

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Season Nine would have been... different.

**Author's Note: **This story is set after the end of Season Ten. The Ori have been expelled from our galaxy at this point.

* * *

**Part I **

**_Delta Site_ **

"The Asgard have been able to equip this vessel with one of our hyperdrives." Thor lectured as the group materialized in the engine room. "It will allow you to explore other galaxies. The dialing computers for the stargate have been modeled on our own, and will be able to calculate stargate destinations in the galaxies you visit."

"How long would it take this ship to reach, say… Atlantis?" Daniel enquired in a would-be casual tone.

"At full speed, approximately two weeks. The new model engine is slightly more efficient than those onboard this ship's predecessors, however, after compensating for the massive size, the speed of this vessel is little more than that of the _Odyssey_."

"The systems are mostly crystal based, right?" Sam asked, her gaze fixed on the computer consoles lining the sides of the engine room. Had she not been wearing her dress blues, she would have been happy to begin to dissect the entire engine. "Were there any problems integrating the…"

"Carter!" Jack caught her arm, leading her away from the main console, half-afraid that, if she were to start examining it, they would never be able to draw her away. "You'll have plenty of time to play with your new ship once it's in the air. This is supposed to be a _quick_ tour. We've got a lot more to see."

"But, General…"

"The Asgard enhancements have been successfully integrated with your original design interface." Thor assured her. The Supreme Commander of the Asgard fleet seemed as eager to move though the tour quickly as the Head of Homeworld Security was. "If you will follow me."

Matching their strides to those of the much smaller Thor, Sam and Jack followed him through a corridor lined with crew quarters to a huge hangar bay filled with gliders.

"Hi, guys." Vala's greeting was cheerful.

"Vala." Jack scanned the hangar for other occupants, seeing none. "Who granted you access? I remember approving Mitchell – what have you done with Mitchell?"

"I'm here, sir." The cockpit of the nearest glider opened and a head popped up.

"Having fun, Cam?" Sam asked, amused.

"You betcha." Mitchell beamed, climbing out of the cockpit and sliding down, ignoring the ladder. "Can't wait to get one of these babies up in the air, see what they can do."

"It'll be quite a while before we have any of these on Earth." Jack remarked. "All twelve will be going with the _Enterprise_."

"We're not calling it the _Enterprise_… right?" Sam asked worriedly.

"I was overruled. Again." Jack grumped. What was the point of being 'the man' if he couldn't make any cool decisions?

"The Asgard would have liked to name this vessel for you, Colonel Carter." Thor said, leading the way up the stairs and onto the bridge. "But O'Neill thought that you might prefer a different name."

"So what is the ship going to be called?" She asked.

"The President thought that the ship's first commander should have the privilege of naming her." A familiar voice spoke up. General Hammond stood next to the commander's chair, in full dress uniform, a broad smile on his face. "It's up to you, Colonel Carter."

"I vote for the _Vala_." The recommendation came immediately.

Jack scowled. "We're not calling this ship the _Vala_."

"The first person who hears that name will probably blow us out of the sky." Daniel remarked caustically.

"What about the _Mal Doran_?" She asked hopefully. Nobody bothered to reply.

"What about naming it after Hermes, the patron god of travelers?"

"And thieves." Vala chimed in helpfully.

"Or maybe after Athena, goddess of wisdom and learning." Daniel continued, ignoring the interruption. "Or Iris, messenger of the gods."

"We've already had the _Prometheus_, the _Daedalus _and the_ Odyssey_." Mitchell commented. "We could call this one the _Icarus_."

"You'd really want to name this ship after Icarus?" Daniel asked dubiously, looking at the other man as though he'd grown an extra head.

"Why not?" Mitchell shrugged his shoulders. "It should be a Greek name like the other ships have, right?"

"Yeah, but Icarus? The guy who flew too close to the sun and plummeted to his death when his wings fell apart? I'm not flying on any ship with that name. Why not just name it the _Titanic_ and be done with it?"

"I get to name my F-303, right?" Mitchell appealed to General Hammond.

Realization dawning, Jack drew Sam aside. "You haven't told those two that they're not coming, have you?" He asked in a low voice.

Sam adopted her most innocent expression. "I thought that it would be better coming from you, sir."

"Carter…"

"They assumed that they'd be coming along, I didn't have the heart to tell them they wouldn't be." She gave him a beseeching look. "They'll be so disappointed."

"These nasty little jobs come with the big chair, Colonel." He reminded her firmly, sternly willing himself not to give in. He gave her a gentle push in Mitchell and Daniel's direction. "Go on."

Before she could approach the pair and break the bad news, Hammond came to her rescue.

"Major Ferretti is waiting for us in the briefing room, if you'd follow me." He told Sam, who was only too glad of the escape.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here today, sir."

He smiled. "I have a small piece of official business here today, Colonel." He lead her into the briefing room, where, in addition to Major Ferretti, General Landry, Sgt Harriman and half a dozen SGC officers, all in full dress uniform, were waiting.

Walter stepped forward, pressing small boxes into Hammond and Jack's hands.

"The President of the United States has placed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, integrity and abilities of Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter." Hammond said as he and Jack replaced the silver oak leaves with the eagle insignia of a full colonel. "Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter is promoted to the grade of Colonel, United States Air Force."

Uncomfortably aware of the fact that all the other officers in the room were clad in full dress blues, Mitchell glanced self-consciously at his own olive-drab jumpsuit.

He nudged Daniel sharply. "You couldn't have told me about this?"

"She got promoted first – that means I won the pool, right?" Vala asked eagerly from Daniel's other side.

"Yeah. Me too." Daniel said.

Mitchell was turning redder by the second. "There was a _pool_!"

"No, no pool." Daniel's response was over-hasty.

"Son of a bitch!"

"What was that, Colonel?"

Mitchell felt his face grow warm as Landry fixed him with a stern look. "Nothing, sir."

TBC.

_Author's Notes: We hope to have the next chapter posted within a week. In the meantime, feedback is more than welcome and if there are any suggestions or requests, please let us know._


	2. Part II

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show.

* * *

**Part II**

_**The next day, SGC**_

"Unscheduled offworld activation." The alarms blared for a few moments before falling silent, then Walter's voice filtered through the PA. "Colonel Carter to the gate room."

Sam made her way from her office, where she had been combing through applications to join her crew, to the gate room, wondering what the reason for the summons was. Her face lit up when she saw who was waiting there.

"Jonas!" She hugged her former teammate briefly before taking in the uncharacteristically sober expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"There's something you need to see. Is the general around? And the rest of SG-1?"

"Of course." Sam led the way from the gate room, through the control room and the briefing room to General Landry's office, where he, Daniel and Mitchell were.

"… the last time, gentlemen, you're both needed at the SGC." Landry's tone was exasperated.

"General?" Sam knocked on the door. "I'm sorry to interrupt…"

"Not at all." Landry assured her hastily. "Have a seat, Colonel. It's good to see you, Mr Quinn."

"Thank you, sir." Jonas took a seat, greeting both Daniel and Mitchell distractedly. "My people don't know why I'm here."

"Why are you here, son?" Landry asked, glad of the diversion.

"Over the past few years, we've uncovered a lot of artifacts and documents dating back to Thanos' reign." Jonas explained. "One of them was written in a Goa'uld dialect I was unfamiliar with, it took me a long time to translate it. It spoke of a hidden cache belonging to the Old Ones."

"The Ancients." Daniel supplied unnecessarily.

"That's what I thought." Jonas agreed. "Apparently, they hid weapons and technology there, along with an archive of their knowledge."

"Do you think that this is the planet that the Goa'uld in Conrad was trying to get to?" Sam asked.

"I think so." Jonas said. "Thanos was able to work out the address, but the planet couldn't be reached by stargate. He was going to build a ship to reach it, and planned to use naquadria to power it. That's the last reference to him in our history."

"Why come to us with this?" Landry asked. "Your own people…"

"We don't have any ships that could reach this planet." Jonas looked troubled. "And even if we did, sir, I don't think that this is technology that my people should have. Since the Ori invaded Langara, things have been… the Kelownans, Terranians and Andarians are at each other's throats, blaming the other sides for what happened. It's worse that it was when SG-1 first visited. If they get hold of that technology, they'll destroy each other… and themselves. In your hands, it might do some good."

Rising from his chair, Landry asked "Can you show us where this planet is?"

The others all rose and followed him into the control room. Jonas sat before the map of the Stargate system. He began typing furiously, and the lense moved from its position over earth, and moved to an area near the edge of the map.

"PX9-377." said Sam. "We tried to go there once ourselves. I wonder if there's still anything there to find." Sam moved to another computer beside Jonas and brought up on the screen a file on the Prometheus hijacking. She checked one of the files, and turned to Landry. "It is along the heading Conrad set when he took over Prometheus."

"If one other Goa'uld knew where to find it, it stands to reason others did too," Mitchell said. "Maybe Anubis or another System Lord already raided this place."

"Still," Daniel commented, "it's gotta be worth checking out. Even from a historical point of view, if there isn't any technology worth finding, we might find some more information on the Ancients. New information about their history, something worth passing on to Atlantis."

"But I thought that you couldn't get to the planet." Mitchell pointed out.

"Not by stargate, but we could get there by ship." Sam suggested.

"It will be a long time before the _Odyssey_ is ready to fly again. The _Daedalus_ left Atlantis yesterday morning. Once they're in contact range I'll order a reroute to PX9-377."

"Sir," Carter cut in, "that may not be necessary."

"Your ship isn't due to leave for her first mission until the end of the month." Landry reminded her.

"The ship itself is ready, and most of the crew have been chosen. There are still some spots that need filling, but we could manage with the people we have for one trip."

"And if there are empty places, people from the SGC can fill in, right?" Mitchell seized his opportunity. "I know I wouldn't mind tagging along if you need someone to fly the F-303s." He added hopefully.

"I believe the pilots have already been selected, Colonel."

"They have." Sam confirmed Landry's words. "Most of the vacancies are for scientific staff. A few people from the Atlantis expedition will be transferring when we drop their new volunteers off."

"New people are being sent to Atlantis?" Daniel was even more dismayed at losing out on this opportunity than he was at the thought of not being allowed to be a part of Sam's crew. "Why haven't I heard about this before now?"

"To avoid this conversation." Landry said dryly. "With Colonel Carter and Teal'c leaving, the SGC can't spare you, Doctor." He looked up at Sam. "It's a good idea, Colonel. If there is a chance that we can obtain Ancient technology then it is an opportunity that we cannot afford to waste. If the President and General O'Neill give their approval, you can take your ship and check it out. If you need to borrow anyone from the SGC, let me know."

"Thank you, sir. I'll have a list of names on your desk by lunchtime."

* * *

****

**_Three days later, Delta Site _**

"I really appreciate the SGC allowing this ship to be used to check out the planet." Jonas said, lifting the duffel containing the clothes and toiletries the SGC had provided him with over his shoulder.

"It's no problem." Sam assured him. In truth, she was glad of the opportunity to take her new ship out early. "It sounds as though this planet is definitely worth a look."

"If it's an Ancient outpost, I should be going." Daniel grumbled. "You'll need someone to translate any writings you find."

"I've been learning the Ancient language over the past couple of years." Jonas said helpfully. "And Sam was telling me that the Asgard installed one of their translation programs in the ship's computers."

Sam had rarely been so grateful to see a stargate activate as she was at that moment.

"Receiving iris code, ma'am." The airman on duty reported. "It's the SGC."

"Open the iris." Sam ordered. She glanced at her friends. "This should be the last of the crew."

As she spoke, people began to file through the stargate, with Lt Hailey leading the way. She greeted them briefly, saluting Sam before shepherding Sgt Siler and another half a dozen people towards the ship.

"Hey, Carter." Jack greeted cheerfully when he spotted them. "Everybody get here alright?"

"Yes, sir. You're the last group to arrive from the SGC, and Teal'c, Bra'tac and the Jaffa are already onboard."

Daniel's eyes narrowed when he saw the bag Jack was carrying. "You're going?"

"I wasn't going to miss the maiden voyage." He grinned. "And one of the perks of being The Man – I can tag along for missions during my vacation time. Hammond's holding down the fort. So," he grinned at Sam, gesturing towards his bag. "Where should I put this?"

"I'll show you your quarters. Are you coming, Jonas? Excuse me." She nodded towards her former teammates, then walked the control room with Jack and Jonas, heading outside, where the ship was awaiting her.

"They could have let us tag along for the first mission." Mitchell complained. "We've got _months_ of leave saved up by now."

"Maybe if we asked General Landry again, he'd reconsider…"

Vala snorted in derision. "He didn't say 'yes' the first twenty-eight times you asked. Why would he agree now?"

"Wonder who else is allowed to go." Mitchell mused aloud.

"Hi, guys!" Most people would have confined themselves to a verbal greeting when they were carrying a suitcase in each hand. Jay Felger was not one of those people. His attempt at combining a wave and a salute while burdened with his luggage resulted in one of his suitcases hitting his foot with a dull thud and flying open, scattering his things all over the floor. "No, no, I can get it, I'm okay." He babbled as he stuffed his clothes back, forcing the suitcase closed. "I'd better get moving – don't want to be late." He excused himself hastily, limping out in the direction of the ship.

The trio were silent for a few moments before Mitchell finally spoke.

"Did he have a _Barbie_ with him?"

* * *

The bridge crew sprang to their feet as soon as Sam, flanked by Jack and Teal'c, with Jonas and Bra'tac following close behind, entered. They came to attention, saluting smartly.

"At ease." Sam told them, sounding more confident than she felt. The command chair seemed huge and she felt silly for being apprehensive about sitting in it for the first time; after all she would be spending a lot of time sitting there during the ship's missions.

"Hey," Seeing her momentary hesitation, Jack patted her shoulder gently. "It's not going to bite, you know." He teased quietly, waiting until she was seated before taking the chair on her right.

Teal'c, Jonas and Bra'tac remained standing and Ferretti occupied the chair on Sam's left.

Jonas' eyes were bright, a broad smile on his face as he scanned his surroundings.

"What are you so happy about?" Jack asked good-naturedly. "It's not like this is your first time on a ship."

Jonas grinned. "It's my first time on _this_ ship."

"Fair enough." Jack acknowledged. He turned to Sam. "Have you settled on a name yet? We can't leave it as the 'X-306' – way too boring. I know that the name _Enterprise_ was vetoed," he added, not waiting for her response. "But how would you feel about _Voyager_?"

"Didn't they end up stranded for seven years?"

"Good point."

"I believe that the _Millennium Falcon_ would be an excellent name for this vessel." Teal'c recommended gravely.

"I've already got a name picked out." Sam told them, turning to Ferretti before any of them could ask what it was. "Are we ready for take-off?"

"Ready when you are, ma'am."

"Thank you." She pressed a finger to the communications console at her side. "Delta Site, this is the _Athena_, requesting permission to depart."

Muffled murmurs of approval, coupled with a few groans and a jubilant "Pay up!" Sam was certain came from Daniel filtered through the speakers before a grave voice spoke.

"_Athena_, you have a go."

"Acknowledged."

"_Athena_?" Jack smiled his approval. "I like it."

"Thank you, sir. Captain Sherwin," Sam addressed the officer seated at the helm. "Engage."

TBC.

_Authors' Note: Next chapter should be up next week. Don't forget to review and let us know of any requests. We plan to have the 'new' SG-1 appear in a chapter or two somewhere down the line - would you prefer to see them soon, or to wait a while?_


	3. Part III

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show.

* * *

**Part III**

"Come in!" A cheerful voice called as soon as she pressed the door chime.

"Colonel Carter, it's so nice of you to drop over, I was wondering if you could help me with something…" Hearing a small cough, he looked up. "Oh… you're not Colonel Carter."

"Umm… no, sir."

"Who are you?"

"Lieutenant Jennifer Hailey, sir." She extended her hand to shake his. "I wanted to drop by and introduce myself. I've been assigned to your department."

"My department?" Felger preened visibly. "It is, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir." Hailey responded politely, sternly schooling her face into an appropriately sober expression.

"Well then," Felger straightened, pitching his voice low. "I'm sure that I can count on you, Lieutenant. Colonel Carter has told me great things about you. Between the two of us, we'll keep the science department running at peak efficiency."

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, well… I've still got some unpacking to do still." He gestured to the open suitcases on the bed, digging through the one nearest him and beaming when he unearthed a Playstation. "I'll be along in just a few moments." He promised, trying to untangle various wires.

"Yes, sir." She saluted, even though her department head wasn't part of the military and turned to leave. Just before reaching the door, she turned. "Sir?"

"Yes, Lieutentant?"

"How are you going to use that?" She asked, pointing at the Playstation before sweeping an arm around the room.

"What do you mean?"

"There are no electrical sockets on the ship. All of our equipment is powered by the engines or by naquadah."

Felger's face fell. "Oh."

Taking pity on the crestfallen man, Hailey held out her hand for the console. "Give it here."

Felger's hopeful expression gave way to concern as she pried one of the panels loose, revealing a network of wires and crystals. "Should you really be messing with those?"

"Don't worry, sir." She barely spared him a glance. "I know what I'm doing." It only took her a minute to unscrew the plug and hook the wires into the control panel. "There." She switched the console on.

Felger grinned when the screen lit up. "Thanks!"

"No problem." Hailey watched, amused, as her new department head practically skipped over to the bed to dig one of his games out of his suitcase.

"You know, I should really do a test run." He said as he rustled through his luggage. "Just to make sure that everything's working properly and all."

"Of course." Her eyes widened when a Barbie doll with a familiar hairstyle and BDUs tumbled out of the suitcase and fell to the floor. "Sir… that doll…"

Felger swooped down to scoop up the doll, clutching it protectively.

"Was that…" She trailed off, thinking that she would be better off if she didn't know. She just about managed to keep a straight face. "If you don't mind, sir," She began innocently. "I had some ideas for improving the accuracy and range of the rail guns that I want to try out before they finish installing them. With your approval, of course."

"Sure." Felger had sat down in front of the Playstation, ready to thoroughly 'test' it. "I'll be down soon." He promised vaguely, his eyes already glued to the small screen as he loaded the game disc.

"No need to hurry." Hailey assured him quickly, biting her lower lip to keep from smiling. She moved towards the door, turning back before she left. "Dr Felger?"

"Yeah." It took a moment for him to drag his attention away from the Playstation to look up at her.

"I'll rig a more permanent interface later. In the meantime…" She waved a hand towards the open panel and the wires. "Just… don't touch any of that, okay?"

She was still giggling when she reached the science bay. Seeing Colonel Carter and General O'Neill, she made a determined effort to regain her composure, but she was only partially successful.

"You met Felger, didn't you?" General O'Neill asked with a knowing smirk.

"Yes, sir."

"Speaking of which…" He said, turning to Colonel Carter. "I know for a fact that Landry let you take your pick of the SGC for this mission."

"Except Daniel." She told him, engrossed in her study of the computer system. "Oh, and Walter."

"So, with all of the SGC to choose from, why…"

"Don't worry, sir." She didn't even look up. "I know what I'm doing."

"If Felger blows up this ship, you're not getting a new one." He warned playfully.

She glanced up from her work, amused. "With respect… if this ship blows up, not getting a new one will be the least of my worries." This had the effect of silencing General O'Neill. "He's a brilliant scientist, sir. I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Your call." He was less than fully convinced.

"Ma'am?" Hailey spoke up. "I had some ideas about improving the rail guns, I'd like to try to implement them before we finish installing them."

Sam accepted the proffered notes, skimming through them. "Looks good, Lieutenant. Have you discussed this with Dr Felger?"

"He said he'll be down as soon as he can. Should I get started?"

"Yes, go ahead." Colonel Carter finished up with the computers and looked up at General O'Neill. "We need to make a quick stop at the engine room."

"Then we eat, right?" He asked hopefully.

"Sure." She responded absently, making her way out of the lab.

General O'Neill nodded at Hailey briefly before following her out of the room, clearly not in any great hurry to explore the engine room.

"At full speed we should reach PX9-377 in two days." Sam commented as they reached the engine room. Each of its five levels was buzzing with activity and their entrance went virtually unnoticed. Engrossed in her study of the engine schematics, displayed on the screen of one of the computers, she was silent for several minutes. "The engines enhancements the Asgard installed are amazing." She murmured. "And the back-up naquadah engines are completely separate, just in case."

"Fascinating." Jack muttered dryly. She didn't seem to have heard him.

After about ten minutes had passed, he wondered if it was going to be possible to coax her away. To say that Sam Carter had a tendency to get wrapped up in her work would have been an understatement of mammoth proportions. He had seen her spend days cooped up in her lab when she had a technological puzzle she wanted to solve.

He leaned forward, looking over her shoulder. "Does this thing have Solitaire?"

She looked up, smiling. "You want to grab some lunch?"

"Thank you!"

* * *

Over the next two days, Sam spent more time off the bridge than on, tearing through the Engine Room and Science Bays like a woman possessed. Jack tried to tag along as much as possible, but there was only so much technobabble he could take, even from Sam. He had tried to put on a mask of cold disapproval when Hailey let slip that her superior had brought a Playstation on board, but the smirks he got from both of the _Athena_'s brightest minds told him he'd failed. The time passed somewhat more quickly after that, and Felger had managed to calm himself in the general's company, after some initial squeaking and twitching.

He and Sam ate most of their meals together over the next couple of days, with Ferretti joining them for dinner on the second evening of their journey.

Everyone on board the _Athena_ seemed to be settling in nicely. It certainly helped that in addition to their first mission being a simple recon, the ship's commander was too engrossed in her own studies of the ship's systems to pay very much attention to what was going on around her. This afforded the crew the opportunity to familiarize themselves with their stations and tasks without having to worry that they were being watched like unruly children. A comfortable atmosphere spread quickly all around the ship, and everything ran smoothly on the way to PX9-377.

The announcement for Carter to go to the bridge came over the P.A. while she was going over Hailey's notes on her plans for the rail gun turrets. It was a good idea - a dozen turrets extending from different points around the hull, each one rotating in all directions away from the ship. Anybody who picked a fight with the _Athena_ once those guns were in place would have at least three leveled on them at any time no matter what their attack angle.

By the time she reached the bridge they were already settling into orbit around PX9-377. "Any indication it's inhabited?"

"No indication of any technologically advanced society," Doctor Rivers told her. "No E.M. readings, no evidence of significant fossil fuel emissions." She entered a couple of commands. "There's definitely something down there though. I'm seeing structures - towns and villages on most visible continents. Nothing very big. No cities that I can see from here."

"No indications of any kind of technological advancement?"

"No, ma'am. Definitely a pre-Industrial society."

Sam stepped up to the console beside Rivers. "What's the largest settlement visible?"

"Here." Rivers indicated a location on the eastern continent. It didn't seem very large. Sam couldn't see it being home to more than fifteen hundred people, unless they were cramming them in wall-to-wall in every building.

Jonas and General O'Neill entered together. "Are we there yet?" the general smirked, even though he was already armed and fully equipped to set down, as was Jonas.

"Yes, sir. Scanning for indications of where the ancient treasure trove might have been hidden."

"How?"

"There!" Sam said triumphantly. "The naquadah in the soil." She explained, seeing his quizzical expression. "The strongest concentration's around a half-mile south of the town, spreading out in smaller amounts from there. This area," she said, indicating that point just south of the settlement, "is most likely where the stargate's buried. Chances are, anything worth finding can be found around here. I've set the Asgard transporter to drop us half a mile south of the town."

"Teal'c and Bra'tac are on their way up," Jonas provided, only moments before the pair entered, Teal'c in black BDUs, Bra'tac, as always, in his armour and cloak. Teal'c had a P-90 slung over his shoulder, and a zat was clipped to Bra'tac's belt. Both carried their staff weapons.

"Ready to go?" Sam asked.

"Indeed we are, Colonel Carter," Teal'c replied.

Bra'tac didn't make a sound, and as Sam regarded him, thinking that, despite his age, this was the first time she had ever seen him look old. He looked at nobody and nothing in particular, was hunched over - in ten years, Sam had never seen him slouch or slump unless he was gravely injured - and the staff in his hand was held so loosely it seemed it might fall from his grip at any moment. She was debating whether or not she should say something when Teal'c spoke up, the look in his eyes silencing her.

"Will any others be accompanying us to the planet?"

"No," she said after a moment. "We'll head into the settlement on foot. If the locals are primitive, as our scans suggest, the sight of the ship might spook them pretty bad. Major," she continued, turning to Ferretti, "we'll radio in two hours with a status report. Anything else pops up in the meantime, let us know."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, saluting. "Good luck."

She turned back to Rivers and was about to give the order to initiate the transporter, when General O'Neill cut across her. "Energise!"

"What?" He grinned at Sam when they rematerialized on the planet's surface. "I've always wanted to say that."

She shook her head, amused. "This path looks pretty well used, my guess is it connects this settlement" she gestured to the north, "with it's neighbour."

"But well used by what?" Jonas said dubiously, his pointing finger drawing the group's attention to a series of large, triangular imprints on the dirt path.

"We should be careful." Teal'c cautioned. "Whoever – or whatever – left these tracks could prove a threat."

"Teal'c's right." Sam said. "We have to stay alert. Teal'c, take point." He acknowledged her with a nod, striding to the front of the group.

Sam was about to ask Bra'tac to bring up the rear but, slightly worried about how distracted the Jaffa Master seemed, she took that task herself, with Jack falling back into step with her. Bra'tac moved forward to join Teal'c and Jonas walked between them, scarcely glancing up from the notes he was poring over, miraculously managing not to trip over his own feet as they made their way through the wooded area before emerging, following the path towards the walled town before them.

"The structure looks similar to a fortress on Earth in medieval times." Jonas observed, looking up from his notes. "I'd say it's definitely built to be easy to defend – look at the watch towers."

Jack glanced up at the massive spear gun over the entrance to the town. "Remember how you were worried about scaring the locals? Somehow, I don't think these guys scare easily."

The five of them froze as the spear gun was trained on their position.

"Hold!" A gravelly voice commanded.

Looking up, they could see the speaker, flanked by two others, glaring down at them.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud!"

"Indeed." Teal'c seconded his friend's sentiments.

"They're Unas."

TBC.

_Authors' Note: The next chapter will be posted soon. In the meantime, don't forget to review and, if there are any requests, let us know._


	4. Part IV

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show.

**Authors' Note: **A big thank you to everybody who has reviewed so far.

* * *

**Part IV **

"No smile, Jonas?" Jack quipped half-heartedly, patting the now very pale Kelownan on the shoulder. "This is your first time meeting Unas, right?" A reproving frown from Sam silenced him.

The guard had disappeared, and the thick wooden gates of the walled town opened slowly and noisily. The same guard appeared again, and approached the group joined by two other Unas. One was garbed the same way - animal skins and light armor derived from bone and thick leather. The other was not. His skins seemed finer and were died black, as was his decorated armour. The two guards carried long spears with curved steel blades. The third - an officer of sorts, Sam assumed - held a massive hammer propped up over his shoulder.

He glowered at the humans and Jaffa. "You are not from this land," he growled. "We have not seen your kind before."

"We're peaceful explorers," Sam replied, seeing that poor Jonas was dumbstruck at the monstrous sight of the Unas. "We've travelled a long way."

"A very long way," Jack seconded.

"Which of you is leader?" he demanded.

Seeing as Jack's involvement with the _Athena_ would not be long-term, he nodded to Sam. "I am," she said, stepping forward.

Their interrogator's face was difficult to read. His voice was not, a heavy mix of amusement and scorn. "A _woman _leads you? Are all of your men so weak?"

Sam half expected Bra'tac to rise to the Unas officer's challenge, but he didn't make a sound. Jonas, who seemed to have regained his composure, seemed unconcerned at the insult, and Jack shook his head, smiling slightly.

Teal'c moved to Sam's side and calmly addressed the speaker. "Colonel Carter is a warrior of great skill," he stated simply. "I am honoured to follow her."

The officer grunted in further amusement, as did one of the guards. The other guard, the largest of the welcome wagon, silently regarded Teal'c and Sam, reserving judgment or perhaps just better masking his opinion. In the past, Sam would have been more than a little upset at such an attitude regarding her gender. Now, she simply ignored the slight.

"Where did you come from?"

"North," Sam replied, remembering a smaller continent that had seemed uninhabited from above. "From across the ocean."

"Why are you here?" snapped the officer, stepping closer to Sam, towering over her.

Jonas spoke up for the first time since getting a good look at the locals. "We read about your city," he said. "We wanted to meet your people, learn about your..."

The lead Unas cut him off. "You seek the treasure left behind by our saviours." He didn't seem angry at this, or at Jonas' attempt to hide their intentions. He was, however, growing more amused by the second. You are not the first to seek it. Nor," he chuckled, "will you be the last. Only the _worthy _will uncover their great secrets."

"Well, worthy or unworthy, do you mind if we drop in? It was a pretty long trip, and we'd hate for it to be wasted."

The officer turned and walked back through the gates, looking back over his shoulder to bark at nobody in particular. "Come!"

Sam and the others began to follow, but before they got far the larger guard stepped in front of Teal'c. Everyone paused, and the other guard regarded his companion curiously, apparently perplexed at his behaviour. This Unas was enormous, making Teal'c seem almost childlike by comparison. He cocked his head slightly, examining the Jaffa as one would a dangerous animal in a cage. Teal'c opened his mouth to speak, but the guard simply turned away, he and his companion following the officer.

"Looked like he was sizing you up for a wrestling match," Jack commented. As they continued to follow the guards, the general spoke into his radio. "Ferretti, this is O'Neill, come in."

"Ferretti here, general," came the reply.

"We've made contact with the locals. They're Unas. They don't seem hostile, though they do kinda need to work on their people skills. Either way, they're letting us into the town. We'll report in again when the sun goes down, or if we find out anything worth mentioning."

"Roger that, sir. Doctor Rivers is scanning for any evidence of subterranean structures or anything else pointing to the Ancients. Nothing so far, but they were pretty good at hiding things, so that's no big surprise.

"Right. Well, keep looking. Maybe one of us will get lucky. O'Neill out."

The settlement looked like a medieval fort town. Houses and shops sat closer to the wall. Sam wasn't sure of the function of some of the other buildings she saw. "They're roots seem to be in Celtic society," Jonas commented. "That script," he said, indicating a sign above on of the shops, "it's Ogham. And the markings on that guy's armour was Celtic in origin too. We know some of the Ancients had connections to Celtic society. This might be a result of their influence. Guy called them their saviours."

As they moved further into the town, they seemed to be approaching the largest building. They followed the officer and guards inside. Two more guards stood at the large double-doors, and another two inside. They seemed curious about the visitors, but none of them said anything. Inside, it appeared as if the building might have been some sort of town hall or courthouse, perhaps both. Archways leading to other rooms and passages lined the walls, and the team could see into most of the rooms. Jonas noted what seemed to be a meeting hall, and told Sam that a sign over one of the passageways indicated a library. They walked past all of these turnoffs and continued to the end of the entrance hall, where yet another pair of guards opened another large door. The officer went in first, and gestured for Sam and her team to follow. After the large guard and his companion entered, the door was closed behind them. Inside was another meeting hall. Rows of benches stood on both sides, and at the top of the room was a raised platform with five large charges in a line. Each of the five chairs were occupied by Unas in robes of different colours.

Whatever business they were discussing, they fell silent when they saw the humans. The officer approached them and began whispering to them. The guards gestured for the humans to halt, and one stood at either side of the group while those at the top of the room conversed quietly. After a moment, the officer also moved away from the platform and stood beside the larger guard. The Unas in the centre chair, the only woman of the five, beckoned the humans to come closer, and spoke to Sam.

"Trahern tells us you came from across the sea." Her voice was surprising coming from an Unas. It seemed almost musical, not lacking the gruff tones Sam had heard from other Unas. Now that she thought of it, Sam realised this was the first female Unas she had ever met. "Odd that we have not encountered your kind before." Clearly she didn't believe the claim, but she didn't press the matter. Observing the group and their weapons, she half-asked "You are soldiers?"

"Most of us," Sam replied. "This is Jonas Quinn. He's a scholar. He studies history and cultures. I'm Colonel Samantha Carter, this is General Jack O'Neill, Teal'c, and Master Bra'tac."

"General?" The Unas on the woman's right noted. "We were told you led this group," he told Sam.

"I'm not here on official duty," Jack replied. "Colonel Carter's in command, I'm just tagging along."

The one who had pointed out the difference in rank seemed satisfied with this response. Before falling silent, however, he fixed his gaze on Sam, stating "Among our people, women have no place among soldiers."

This second shot at gender rubbed Sam the wrong way, but she tried not to let it show. "I'm sure that's just one of many differences between our races. We would like to learn more about your people. And we'd be happy to share information about ours. That's one of the reasons we're here."

"Another reason being the Treasures of Old?" Sam confirmed this, and the woman continued. "We have no objection to your being here, but we ask that you be honest with us. We know you did not come from across the sea. We would know of your people if this were true. We know travel between worlds is possible. We were once under threat by an enemy from another world, and liberated by yet another alien race. Little is remembered about our oppressors or our saviours. But we do know they came from the skies. Where did you really come from?"

Sam had not expected this at all. It had seemed that claiming to be from the same planet would be the wisest decision when dealing with a primitive culture who didn't seem to have an active Stargate. "We're from a planet called Earth. And if the people who helped you out were who we think they were, they came from our world, millions of years before we evolved there. We call them the Ancients. We came here because we learned that they were here once, and that they left things behind when they left."

"Yes. Our people have sought their Treasure for many years. None have ever discovered it's location. It is said that only the worthy may uncover the secrets of old." She conferred quietly with the others for a moment. You are of course welcome here. We would like to learn more about your people. I will send a message to one of the inns to provide you with rooms while you are here. You are also welcome to search for the treasure. You will have access to the library. What little we know about these 'Ancients,' if indeed they are the same people who saved us, can be researched there. You will also find accounts from some previous searches. Although I must say, if I were you, I would not put much hope in this search. Many have come to believe that the Treasure does not even exist. This is Kaímar," she indicated the large guard who had blocked Teal'c's path before. "And Oren. They will show you to the inn, and will assist you in whatever you need. If you wish to leave the town, their protection may be necessary. We can't be sure that should you meet others of our kind, you will be well-received."

Sam didn't bother mentioning that such protection seemed unnecessary within the settlement. Although these Unas seemed quite civilized, they weren't about to blindly trust strangers. "Thank you..."

"Emlyn. We are the elected council of Ultan."

* * *

The inn was four stories tall. The first floor had the bar, and was filled with rectangular tables with benches on either side. The second was a common room with massive armchairs, a tall bookcase, a few polished tables and a large stone fireplace. The third and fourth floors contained the guest rooms, five on each floor, only two of which were occupied before the team arrived. Each of them had a room to themselves, and quite spacious seeing as how they were built for Unas.

The previous evening, a rather large meal had been served in the common room for the team, their guards, and another Unas who was staying at the inn. Also in the common room was a board game, somewhat resembling chess but at the same time very different.

Jonas spent most of the evening talking to the Unas, except Kaímar, who sat in a corner with a book and spoke to nobody. After the meal Oren began teaching Jonas about the game, which was called Gambit. Much like chess it was a tactical battle game, but seemed far more complicated, with the potential to go on much longer. Within a few games, however, Jonas was already proving a good match for his opponent. It was late again the team retired to their rooms, but all were up by sunrise.

Kaímar volunteered to escort Sam and Jonas to the library while Jack, Bra'tac and Teal'c accepted Oren's offer to show them around the town.

The library was clearly not in regular use, the books and scrolls were piled haphazardly on rickety shelves and the air was dry with dust.

An Unas was doing his best to restore some semblance of order, dusting one of the shelves before restacking a dozen books neatly. He nodded briefly when they entered, warned in advance of their visit.

"You seek the writings on the Treasures of Old." It wasn't a question. "Follow me." He led them to a small table, where several scrolls and maps, together with a small stack of books were laid out for them. "This is all the material we have." He pointed at the books. "Others have tried to find the Treasure before and failed. Perhaps their accounts will help you avoid their mistakes."

"Thank you." Sam said, taking a seat and motioning for Jonas to do the same, Jonas taking one of the newest looking of the journals while Sam examined the map, comparing it to the readings the _Athena_'s sensors had taken. Kaímar took a seat opposite them, taking a book from one of the shelves and quickly becoming absorbed in what he was reading.

Jonas glanced across at Kaímar, smiling. "Since you're here, maybe you could help us?"

His friendly suggestion was met with a frown. "My father instructed me to guard you, nothing further."

"Your father?" Sam asked.

"Trahern, the captain of the town guard." He regarded her curiously. "Are you not a warrior, Colonel Carter? Why do you do the work of a scholar?"

"I'm both." She explained. "I am a soldier, but I am also a scientist, I study natural law. How the universe works, the physics of the stars."

"Here, a warrior is a warrior only." He hesitated a moment before pointing at a section of the map. "This area has been searched before, by many experienced warriors over many years, some of whom never returned from their quest. It would be a waste of your time to venture there."

"Thank you." Sam opened one of the journals, showing it to him. "Could you help me translate this? I don't understand your writing."

Kaímar considered for a moment then nodded, moving his chair closer and taking the book from her, reading the words aloud, slowly enough to allow Sam time to take notes.

Several fruitless hours later, even Jonas was ready to take a break.

"There doesn't seem to be any instructions about where to find the treasure." Jonas grumbled, closing the last of the journals and setting the scroll he was studying aside. "Everybody seems to have based their searches on guesswork."

Sam scanned the map again, wishing that the Ancient who had hidden his technology had left a helpful 'X' to mark the spot. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the pattern that bordered the map, turning the parchment at an angle to examine it more closely. What she had thought was a simple decorative design at first glance was a series of symbols that she found very familiar.

"Jonas," She passed the map across the table, her finger directing his gaze to the symbols. "Do these look familiar to you?"

"It's writing," Jonas leaned forward to examine the border pattern more carefully. "It's Ancient, alright, just at an angle - that's why we never spotted it." He jotted the symbols down in his notebook, translating the first few words. "'To the North lies a great desert.'" He turned the page to read the second line. "'The moons shine in the noon sky'- that can't be right."

"There is no desert to the North," Kaímar pointed out. He pointed to the map, indicating a blue area. "Only ocean."

Sam looked thoughtful. "What do the other two sides say?"

"'The sun scorches the sands of the ocean'... 'The sun is high at midnight'... none of these statements make any sense."

"Not like this." Sam pointed out, remembering the doorway she and her father had had to open on Dakara. "Which is the symbol for 'desert'?" She placed a marker on top of it. "And 'ocean'?"

"Here." He showed the word, then pointed out 'noon' and 'midnight', guessing where she was going.

Taking a pencil and a ruler, Sam quickly drew a line connecting 'ocean' and 'desert', repeating the process with 'noon' and 'midnight'.

"Sam, this map is thousands of years old." Jonas objected.

She blushed slightly, realizing what she had just done. She was glad Daniel wasn't there; she'd never have heard the end of it. "It's pencil, it will rub out."

Kaímar glanced around, making sure the librarian wasn't nearby. He nodded at Sam to indicate that the coast was clear.

She smiled her thanks before directing Jonas' attention to the lines she had drawn. "And here, where they intersect..." She picked up her radio. "General?"

"What's up, Carter?"

Her tone was triumphant. "I've got the coordinates."

TBC.

_Authors' Note: The next chapter will be posted soon._


	5. Part V

**Disclaimer: **We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. The lyrics used are from the song "The USS Make Shit Up" by Voltaire.

* * *

**Part V **

_And I say,  
Bounce a graviton particle beam off the main deflector dish  
That's the way we do things, lad, we're making shit up as we wish  
The Klingons and the Romulans pose no threat to us  
'Cause if we find we're in a bind we just make some shit up. _

The cheerful singing echoed faintly through the large hangar bay where the twelve F-303s were kept, though not a soul was in sight.

On his way back from the mess hall to the bridge, Ferretti had detoured to the F-303 bay to take his first good look at the new-model fighters. He'd seen the schematics, but hadn't yet had a chance to see the craft themselves, and couldn't wait to take one out for a test run. The moment the bay doors had opened, however, he'd been greeted by the bizarre song echoing all around the room.

_Well, I was stuck on Voyager, pounding on the door  
When suddenly it dawned on me I've seen this show before  
Perhaps I'm in a warp bubble and slightly out of phase  
'Cause it was way back in the sixties when they called it 'Lost in Space' _

"Is somebody in here?"

There was no response.

Determined to find out what was going on – and to be sure that he wasn't losing his mind – Ferretti strode through the hangar bay, checking behind each fighter to see if one of the pilots was pulling a practical joke of some kind. He eventually noticed a head bobbing up and down in the cockpit of one of the gliders, and made his way across the room as the singing continued.

_We were looking for a way to make the ratings soar  
So we orchestrated an encounter with the Borg  
Normally you'd think that that would get us into shit  
But this one has a smashing ass and a lovely set of t…_

"Felger!" Ferretti was now standing over Jay, who had pried open the control panel in the cockpit and was playing around with the wires and crystals within. Felger yelped and blushed at his sudden appearance. He pulled the earphones attached to his MP3 player out of his ears and began babbling nervously. Ferretti couldn't make out a word it. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

Even with his headphones on, Felger could hear this. Hastily switching off his MP3 player, he scrambled out of the fighter, stumbling as he did so and stood at attention in front of the officer, attempting a salute.

"What do you think you're doing in here?" Ferretti demanded.

"Oh_…_ I_…_ uh, well_… _I was just conducting a little research on the glider's weapons systems." He explained lamely.

"Research," Ferretti echoed flatly. He reached past Felger and pressed a button under one of the screens on the dashboard. "Weapons systems armed. You've got the weapons on this thing fully armed, and you're screwing around with the control crystals. You could've blasted a hole in the hull!" Felger went white as a sheet and began stammering uncontrollably, but the major cut him off by snapping his fingers in front of his face. "Jay, I want you out of here. Right now. Go back to your lab, do whatever it is you're supposed to be doing. You need to research the F-303, you can find the schematics in the ship computers. If, for any reason, you need to work on the actual gliders, you call the bridge and ask permission, and an officer will escort you here and stick around while you work. Clear?"

"I, uh… Y… y… yessir."

"Good. Now go."

Felger fled.

* * *

As one might expect, Jack, Teal'c and Bra'tac, accompanied by Oren, made their way to the library as soon as they heard Sam's news about the coordinates. The librarian greeted them politely, pointing them in the direction of the rest of their group.

Sam noticed that Kaímar put the book he was reading aside and stood, moving a couple of feet away from the table when Oren appeared.

"You found the coordinates?" Jack asked immediately.

"Yes, sir." Sam pointed out the spot.

"That's just over three miles from here." He observed.

"The Baol mountains lie there." Kaímar observed.

"The _Athena_'s sensors haven't been able to pick up any kind of energy readings, not even around where we think the gate is. Kaímar told me that the area has been searched pretty thoroughly before." She explained in a low voice. "So whatever we're looking for is probably underground."

"Makes sense." Jack agreed. "If you're hiding treasure, you don't leave it where anyone can just stumble across it."

"It is a treacherous climb, many have perished. It is easy to get lost, the pathways are many. The Treasures of Old were hidden away so that only the worthy may find them." Oren reminded them stiffly. "Those who are unfit to behold the secrets of our saviour do not survive their quest."

Jack merely grinned. "We like a challenge." Oren did not say anything in response, though his disapproving expression spoke volumes.

"If you are to venture outside the town, Oren and I must accompany you." Kaímar told Sam. "For your safety."

"Of course." She said gently. She had already known that the council of elders would never have allowed them to wander freely and, if there was any truth to their warnings about the possible reactions of other Unas to their presence, the protection of the two young warriors was not something she was about to sneeze at. "I'll radio Major Ferretti and let him know what we're doing."

* * *

"You are certain of this?" Trahern's voice was low and disapproving.

"I am, commander." Oren responded respectfully. "Colonel Carter has found writings in a forgotten tongue inscribed on the map of our land, and she and her companion have deciphered them. She believes that she has found the location of the Treasures of Old."

"She cannot have. Only the worthy may find and claim them." Despite his words, the older warrior seemed concerned. "You will accompany our guests on their quest." He commanded.

"Yes, commander."

"You will report to me if…" He could not bring himself to voice the possibility that the strangers, so weak and so unworthy of the name of 'warrior' that they followed a woman's lead, would succeed where generations of his people had failed. "If there is anything you think that I should know." He finished.

"I swear I will."

* * *

"If I was an Ancient treasure trove, where would I hide?" Jack quipped as the group made their way through the forest to the coordinates Sam and Jonas had found.

"Some believe that the key to the treasure lies at the heart of the mountain." Kaímar observed. "But it has never been found."

"Perhaps finding the path is intended as a test." Teal'c suggested. "To ensure the worthiness of those who seek the treasure."

"Probably Booby-trap City," Jack added.

"It makes sense." She responded. "If the Ancient was determined to hide his possessions, it would make sense that he would bury the stargate and keep people from finding the planet."

"It did not keep _you_ from finding our world." Oren pointed out sourly.

"Do you truly think that you will find the Treasures of Old?" Kaímar asked Sam eagerly.

"Only if she is found worthy of it." Oren's tone indicated that he considered this an unlikely prospect.

Sam never had a chance to respond, as Ferretti's voice came crackling over the radio. "Colonel Carter, come in."

"Carter here. What's up?"

"Doctor Rivers has been scanning the topography of the mountain range. She's located the entrance what looks like a cavern or a network of caverns near the summit. We've run repeated scans of the area, but can't see inside. Seems like some sort of energy shield is bouncing our scanners away."

"Try the ring transporter. See if it'll penetrate," Sam replied. Mere moments later, Ferretti replied that the ring transporter also bounced off the undetectable shield. "Can you beam us to the cave entrance?" she asked.

No reply came over the radio, but a few seconds later they were surrounded by white light, and found themselves standing at the mouth of the cave. Their Unas guards had been moved along with them, and both were clearly stunned by their sudden disappearance and reappearance in a new location. Oren mouthed silently, caught somewhere between shock and rage, while Kaímar seemed quite impressed.

"Amazing," he breathed almost inaudibly.

"So much for the great test!" Jack commented wryly.

"I'd imagine there's more to it than a mountain stroll, no matter how dangerous," Jonas pointed out.

"Let's find out," Sam called back from over her shoulder, already disappearing inside the cave. The others promptly followed.

She had half expected to find a maze of different pathways within the cave, so Sam, like her companions, was surprised to see a single corridor stretching through the centre.

They followed the path for several hundred yards until it widened into a small chamber with a sculptured planet, set on a pedestal as its only decoration.

"This is a representation of your planet." Sam murmured to Kaímar, tracing the engraved symbols with her finger.

"These are the first six symbols of the stargate address." Jonas observed, studying the sculpture. "And here's the seventh." He pointed to a seventh symbol, set apart from and above the others. "Why is the point of origin here?"

"I think I know." Sam laid her hand on the symbol, smiling as the sculpture hummed and whirred before splitting into sections like an orange divided into segments and a crystal emerged from it's core.

"Is that what I think it is?" Jack asked.

"Yes, sir." Sam carefully pried the crystal from its perch. "It's a DHD control crystal – we need to unbury the 'gate."

* * *

They had scarcely been beamed to the site of the stargate when Oren mumbled something about needing to return to the town and vanished before any of them could question him.

As soon as he was gone, Kaímar volunteered his assistance with the digging.

Sam smiled as she shook her head. "Thank you, Kaímar, but that mightn't be necessary. _Athena_, this is Carter."

"Colonel?" Ferretti's voice filtered through her communicator.

"Can you get a transport lock on the stargate and DHD?"

There was a brief pause as he consulted with Dr Rivers. "Yes, ma'am."

"Go ahead." She motioned to her companions. "We should step back."

The ground trembled for a couple of seconds, then the stargate and DHD rematerialized a few feet away from them.

"Nice job." Jack praised. "They even got it upright."

Sam stood in front of the DHD, cradling the crystal in one hand as she pried open the top of the DHD, placing the crystal she held in the empty place next to the original control crystal. "The Ancient who lived here probably used the second crystal to program the stargate for another function." She theorized aloud. "Something it wouldn't normally do."

"They were the gate builders." Jack reminded her. "They'd have known the system better than anybody."

"What new function?" Teal'c asked.

"The seventh symbol." Sam explained. She dialled the planet's address, frowning when she was rewarded with a brief shudder from the stargate and nothing more.

"Woman!" Trahern, closely followed by Oren, sprinted up to the group, his face contorted with anger. "What have you done?!"

"Carter!" Jack clipped her name urgently. "Now would be a good time to get that thing work…"

Sam didn't answer, her attention focused on the DHD as she began redialling.

Teal'c attempted to intercept the angry Unas and was knocked sprawling on the ground. Bra'tac stood stunned for a few seconds before aiming his staff weapon, missing Trahern by a hair's breadth.

Sam had only entered the first six symbols when Trahern moved behind her, grabbing her collar in an attempt to haul her away from the DHD. Her hand slapped the orange control in the center as she was pulled back.

The stargate sprang to life, and the massive splash that leapt from the ring stretched much further than they had ever seen. Nobody had a chance to blink, let alone move, and all were engulfed by the enormous blue wave.

* * *

"Wow!" Jack was, unsurprisingly, was the first to regain control of his tongue. "That was… different."

"I'll say." Jonas breathed, awed.

"What did you do?"

Sam did not respond to Jack's query, her full attention captured by their surroundings. They had rematerialized inside a large cavern, filled with various pieces of technology she longed to examine. A ZPM was set on a pedestal towards the back of the hall.

A life-sized hologram shimmered into existence and a white-haired woman regarded them with keen green eyes.

"Welcome." The pre-programmed recording echoed through the cavern. "I am Luachra, descended from the people of Lantea and Terra."

"Atlantis and Earth." Sam said quietly.

"I have been teacher and protector of the people of this planet for almost eighty years, since I helped them free themselves from their oppressors and brought them here, where they could be safe."

"It is our saviour." Kaímar's tone was reverent.

"My people have for some time lived apart from other cultures, unwilling to involve themselves in affairs they felt were none of their concern. But I could not stand aside while the Unas lived as slaves to the Goa'uld. I smuggled what technology I could from Terra, and set out to bring as many Unas as I could to this unpopulated world, where they would be free to evolve naturally. It was clear they had a great potential. I simply wanted to give them the opportunity to realize that potential.

"Eventually I returned to Terra, hoping to reintegrate myself into their society and leave the Unas to develop for themselves. However, I found that most of my people had died out, many of them having ascended to a higher plane. A few remained, but the majority of those still on Terra were a second evolution, both physiologically and technologically under-developed. Those of my people who moved among them did so silently, and those who had ascended had apparently severed themselves completely from all matters corporeal. And so, I returned here for a short time. I knew my successors would eventually evolve to the point where they would explore the galaxies as we once had. And so, I constructed this chamber, and left behind my legacy – all the technology I had originally smuggled from Terra. I have long since returned home, leaving instructions for this world's stargate to be buried behind me. Unlike most of my people, I care little for Ascension. By the time anybody finds my legacy and sees this message, I will be long dead.

"For those of my successors who stand here, I have only one request. Leave the Unas in peace. It was my intention that they evolve here at a natural pace, without the interference of technology they were unprepared for."

The hologram went silent and still, blinking out after a few seconds.

Kaímar was the first to break the silence. "It was never meant for us," he whispered.

Trahern's wordless roar filled the chamber a split-second before he charged towards Sam, hefting his huge hammer.

"NO!" Kaímar blocked the blow with a raised fist, placing himself between Sam and his irate father. Trahern's hammer flew from his grasp, sailing through the air, narrowly missing Sam's head and striking the wall with enough force to pulverize ordinary stone.

The cavern's wall did not suffer even a scratch.

"Colonel Carter found the treasure." Kaímar argued. "She has proven herself worthy, our saviour meant her treasure for the descendents of her own people."

"It should be ours!" Trahern spat, aiming a blow at his son's head.

"It was never ours." Kaímar told him, dodging the blow with a dexterity that belied his size. Oren kept his distance, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire while Jack pulled Sam away from the two Unas. Teal'c and Bra'tac held their staff weapons ready to fire.

Trahern did not reply, at least not verbally. Swiping at his son with an open hand, he raked his claws down the side of Kaímar's face and knocking him off balance. He charged towards his son but his attempt to tackle him was aborted abruptly when Kaímar caught him around the waist, flipping him upside down and pile-driving him into the ground, knocking him out for the count.

Oren moved to challenge Kaímar himself but thought better of it and subsided.

"Glad you're on our side." Jack said.

"I will not be welcome in my home after this." Kaímar said quietly, the enormity of his actions hitting him.

"Come with us."

"Carter!" Jack hissed. "You can't go around adopting stray aliens on every planet you vis…" He trailed off, seeing Teal'c giving him the 'Look', while Bra'tac smirked and poor Jonas looked rather hurt. "…Ever been in a spaceship, Kaímar?"

"I have not."

"Umm… I hate to be negative," Jonas began. "But how are we going to get out of here?"

"No doors, no windows." Jack observed. "You're up, Carter."

"I think this room is under the same mountain as the cavern we were in earlier. I'm guessing, but I think the gate's second function was kind of like a ring transporter, configured to the exact same frequency of the shield."

"Fascinating." Jack said dryly. "Any ideas how to get us out of here?"

"Easy." Sam gave him an angelic smile. She moved towards the ZPM, lifting it from the pedestal. "Just take out the battery."

"…nel Carter? General O'Neill? Is anyone reading this signal?" Captain Sherwin's voice was a welcome sound. "Colonel Carter…"

"I'm here, Captain. We all are."

"Glad to hear it, ma'am. We thought we'd lost you."

"Lock onto our transport beacons and beam us to the bridge, and send everything in this room to the cargo bay."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sam extended her hand to take Kaímar's. "Are you coming?"

After Sam and her companions dematerialised along with all the Ancient technology, only Oren and Trahern remained, the latter slowly coming to.

"Commander?" The younger soldier asked. "How are _we _going to get out of here?"

* * *

"There are two Unas trapped in the cavern down there, Captain. Could you beam them back to the town hall?"

"Yes, ma'am." Captain Sherwin tapped the necessary controls.

"Well that was a fun trip." Jack quipped. "And you've got lots of new toys to play with."

"Yep." Sam beamed.

"It was indeed a successful mission." Teal'c congratulated Sam.

"Uh… Colonel?" Ferretti interrupted, nodding in Kaímar's direction. "Who's your friend? New arm-wrestling opponent?"

"I would not presume to challenge Colonel Carter." Kaímar reproved him gravely.

Coming from a nine-foot tall Unas, this struck those on the bridge as more than a little amusing, though only Jack snickered openly.

Sam eyed the cuts on Kaímar's face worriedly. "Those look pretty deep." She said gently. "Maybe you could see our ship's doctor."

"I cannot ever return to my world, can I?" He said soberly, looking at his world through the window.

"I'm sorry."

"Do not be sorry, Colonel." He told her quickly. "I do not regret my actions."

"Still, I want to thank you for what you did. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you…" She trailed off, not really knowing what to say.

"Among my people, it is customary for a young warrior to serve under the tutelage of a commander." He moved and stood in front of Sam, looking down to meet her eyes. He seemed unsure of himself, but after a moment, he continued, "I would be honoured if you would accept me as your apprentice."

Sam was dumbstruck, and she wasn't alone. The entire bridge went almost completely silent, except for a very low snort of laughter Jack couldn't quite conceal. Sam stood stock still, trying to find a verbal response, but totally unable to make a sound. Her eyes moved to Jack, who stood with his arms folded. His cap was in his hand, held to cover his wide smile, and just above the rim, his eyes danced a jig.

Not knowing what else to do, she finally managed a silent nod.

TBC.


	6. Part VI

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Seasons Nine and Ten would be… different.

**Authors' Note: **A big thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. If anyone has a preference for seeing "SG-1" sooner rather than later, please let us know.

* * *

**Part VI**

"We're eleven or twelve days away from Atlantis." Sam reported via the communicator in her office.

"You'll be more than half way there before the _Daedalus_ is within contact range." Landry's image was slightly fuzzy but his words were crystal clear. "And I know that your ship is already carrying the new recruits for the Atlantis expedition."

Daniel's face appeared on her screen, a hopeful expression on his face. "Any chance you could drop back to Earth first and pick me up?" He asked, eager for the chance to spend time on Atlantis now that the Ori weren't posing a constant threat.

"Sorry, Daniel." Sam shook her head. "It would add at least four or five days to our trip."

"Won't you have to come back anyway, to drop Jack off?"

"Actually," Jack told him cheerfully, "our next call's going out to Hammond to haggle over what I'm gonna owe him for babysitting Homeworld Security just a _little_ longer than expected. That guy's never gonna get to retire."

"But you unburied the stargate on PX9-337, right?" Daniel pointed out, a trifle desperately.

"We did." Sam responded cautiously.

"So what if I gated there and you guys beamed me up?" He proposed. "That would work."

"Yeah… if we were still in orbit." Jack said smoothly. "We left a few hours ago."

Daniel swore.

"Dr Jackson!" Landry scolded. He returned his attention to Sam. "Colonel Carter, I was under the impression that with a ZPM in your possession, the journey to Atlantis would be considerably shorter."

"Carter needs more time to play with her new toys… ow!"

"I don't want to deplete the ZPM unnecessarily, sir. We're in no hurry."

"Yeah, and she wants to figure out what everything is before McKay gets his turn and starts bullying her around… Carter! That's the last time, unless you wanna spend the majority of your stint as ship's commander in your own brig!"

"Technically, you're only there as an observer, Jack." Landry pointed out good-humouredly. "You can't order her to the brig. She, however…"

"That can't be right… right?" Jack looked around for confirmation, but the only other person in the room was Carter's new nine-foot shadow, who stood silently by the door, apparently none too eager to offer him any support.

"Hopefully, we'll be able to download the information from the repository we found." Sam told Daniel. "Jonas is working on translations now, he'll send you a report." She offered by way of a consolation prize. Daniel merely muttered disconsolately.

"Don't worry, Danny boy." Jack told him. "You'll get to Atlantis one of these days – and in the meantime, we'll pick up a T-shirt for you."

"We'll look forward to seeing you when you get back to Earth." Landry cut in before Daniel could complain. "Good luck."

"Thank you, sir." Sam responded. "_Athena_ out."

* * *

The next morning, Felger's entire staff had already been broken into teams, with each team assigned to investigate a different piece of technology while their department head offered his valuable advice. Although she hadn't mentioned a specific time for when she would arrive to take part in the research and see how things were going, they had all expected her to be there before any of them arrived. What they didn't know was that Colonel Carter had been ambushed by the Head of Homeworld Security, who was determined to make sure she didn't kill herself with work before he went home.

The two had sat down to breakfast, and as Sam was telling Jack of the encounter she had had the previous night.

Jack was snorting milk out through his nose, as Sam blushed furiously, already regretting having told him.

"It's not _that _funny."

"He just stood outside your door the whole night? I thought you had quarters arranged for him?!" The general was still shaking with laughter.

Very glad there was nobody else around to hear this conversation, she continued. "Yeah. Apparently it's a tradition among his people. An apprentice has to act as a sentry for their 'master'. I woke up in the middle of the night, all I could hear was this rumbling noise. I thought it was the engines until I opened the door, and there he was, standing outside my bedroom, leaning on his spear, snoring loud enough to wake the dead! I tried to explain to him that it wasn't necessary, that he should just sleep in his own quarters, and he looked at me like I'd grown an extra head."

"And… you didn't invite him in to snuggle?" Jack teased. "He does seem quite cuddly."

Sam choked on her coffee, spluttering wildly.

Jack looked down at his Froot Loops, now liberally splattered with coffee. "Thanks, Carter." He muttered sarcastically.

"Sorry, sir," she replied unrepentantly, now laughing herself.

Jack dropped his spoon into the bowl, pushing it to the far side of the table and glaring at his companion. "Skipping over the fact that you're not in the least bit sorry… Carter, I'm on vacation. As in, off duty. You can drop the 'sir'."

"Yes, sir," she smirked.

Jack threw a piece of toast at her.

* * *

The _Athena_'s voyage to Atlantis was a peaceful, uneventful one, devoid of alien attacks and major malfunctions, but Sam's duties as commander still kept her occupied a lot of the time. The crew was not yet complete and the files of more than a hundred potential officers awaited her attention. Although she would have liked to leave the task for the journey back to Earth, to allow herself more time studying the Ancient devices before they were turned over to the Atlantis scientists, she refused to shirk her duties as ship's commander.

There was one artefact in particular that had caught her attention and which Felger had assured her would be left untouched until she could examine it at her leisure, a thoughtful gesture she had appreciated. Preliminary scans had indicated that it was storing an enormous amount of information, which they had not yet been able to access.

After she had left the bridge in Ferretti's very capable hands for the evening shift, Sam, followed by Kaímar, her ever-present shadow, made her way to the lab, where the other scientists were at work on their various projects under Felger's supervision. The well meaning if bumbling scientist had welcomed her warmly, doing his utmost to ensure that she had everything she could possibly need or want. Once Felger had been persuaded that she would be fine, he left her to her work.

The device that had caught her interest was similar in structure to what Jack had graphically dubbed 'Ancient headsuckers', except for the fact that there was no mechanism to allow it to download its information into a person – Jack had refused to come anywhere near the lab until she had been able to assure him of that.

She had been able to rig an interface with the _Athena_'s computer system and the information was being downloaded and translated, but it seemed to be taking a very long time.

Kaímar watched silently as she worked, fascinated by the whole process.

Sam had almost intervened when Felger had approached bearing coffee, in a cup for her and in the largest, sturdiest mug he could find for Kaímar, but she had stopped herself, reasoning that coffee was going to have little effect on an Unas.

"How's it going, Colonel?" Felger asked, watching in awe as the computer screen scrolled through the Ancient script.

"Slowly." Sam grimaced, accepting proffered coffee.

"Do you want a snack?" He asked hospitably. "I could go down to the mess hall and grab something – or send someone." He amended, remembering that he was in charge of his department.

"I'm fine, thanks. What about you, Kaímar?"

"I am also fine."

"I wonder what information is stored in this thing." Felger mused aloud. "Designs for weapons or time travelling ships, do you think? Or maybe the secrets of Ascension…"

"Maybe it's somebody's recipe collection." Jack suggested jokingly, arriving in time to hear Felger's query.

"Why would the knowledge have been hidden, waiting for you to claim it if that were so?" Kaímar asked seriously.

"You never know." Jack grinned, taking a seat next to Sam. "Daniel's going to be pissed that he didn't get a chance to take a look at some of these things, you know." He observed in an undertone.

"He'll forgive me… eventually." Sam said, smiling as a bleep issued from the computer, announcing that a section of the text had been decoded.

"Maybe you should bring back a souvenir for him. Pity we can't send postcards from Atlantis." He joked, picturing his friend's likely reaction to a 'Wish You Were Here' card.

She smiled absently, her attention focused on the information on the screen in front of her. The text was readable, even if some of the turns of phrase hadn't translated properly. The diagrams, however, were unmistakeable.

Jack leaned forward, looking over her shoulder to get a better look. "Isn't that…"

"Yes, sir."

"Sweet!"

TBC

_Authors' Note: Next stop - Atlantis. _


	7. Part VII

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Seasons Nine and Ten would be… different.

* * *

**Part VII **

Armed with her tools, an array of raw materials, a large bowl of blue jello and a steady supply of coffee delivered by Felger, Sam had spent almost every spare waking hour on her project.

With Jonas' help, she had worked out the instructions and downloaded copies of the schematics to her personal computer. The adaptation of the design and its construction had kept her happily occupied during the trip.

"Having fun, Carter?" Jack asked, entering the lab, pulling a chair over to the workbench and sitting down.

Sam grinned briefly. "Yes, sir… Jack." She amended, seeing him frown.

"That's better."

"I thought that you were playing computer games in Felger's quarters." Her attention was focused half on him, half on the device she was building.

"I was – for nearly four hours. Even I got bored after that. Hungry too." He added pointedly, looking around the lab, seeing that they were the only people there. "Looks like the other geeks felt the same way… not that you're a geek or anything."

Sam glanced at the clock on her computer and then at the abandoned workstations. "They must have gone to the mess hall for dinner. I didn't think that it had been as long as four hours."

"Would you really have noticed if it had been fourteen hours? Or forty?" Jack teased. Sam made a face but she didn't argue. "Where's Kaímar? Were you finally able to convince him that you don't actually need a bodyguard on your own ship?"

"He's with Jonas. Kaímar wants to learn more about the Ancients and Jonas offered to teach him to read their language." She told him. "Plus, Jonas promised to show him some Earth games."

"Are you saying that you sent your apprentice on a play date?" He joked.

"Something like that." She lifted the pad with her notes on the device, studying it for a moment before sighing. "I'll need to redo the wiring to compensate for the absence of deuterium. It's not going to be half as effective as it should be."

"It will still help them out a lot."

"I know."

"You could always let the geeks on Atlantis finish the job." The expression on Sam's face made her feelings about this suggestion clear. "Or not."

"We've still got a few days before we get to Atlantis. I'll be finished by then."

"It would be polite to bring a gift. Not that they're not going to be thrilled with the ZPM. You can never have too many of those things."

"Hopefully they'll be able to rig the defence systems so that they can use the ZPM they already have to power the cloak and the one we found for the shields." Sam continued with her work as she spoke, beaming when her tweaking of the device was rewarded with a low humming noise. "I think I'm getting somewhere."

* * *

"What did you say this pastime was called?" Kaímar asked, poking gingerly at the pieces on the board.

"It's called chess." Jonas told him, studying the board carefully before making his move, capturing one of Kaímar's pieces. "Your turn." His eyes widened when Kaímar took out three of his pawns with a neatness that belied his size. "Wow! You're good at this game."

"It is similar to a game the young in my village play. It is part of the earliest education of a warrior, intended to teach the value of strategy, when to be cautious and when to take the offensive." He waited for Jonas to make his move before swooping down and placing his remaining knight into position. "Checkmate."

"Did you always want to be a fighter?" Jonas asked, wisely deciding against challenging his companion to a rematch.

"My father is a warrior, as was his father, and his father before him. The men of my clan are warriors." Kaímar told him. "I was not asked what I wanted."

"Oh." Jonas wasn't sure what to say to that.

"I am large in body, even among Unas." Kaímar continued. "For me to have shunned the path of a warrior would have been a cause of the deepest disgrace. I would have been named a coward, shunned by my people. My entire clan would have been stained by my shame." He was quiet for a few moments. "Though now, I will have shamed them more."

"So why did you do it?" Jonas asked quietly.

"It would have been wrong to do anything else." Kaímar said simply. "My father should not have attempted to harm Colonel Carter, or to prevent her from claiming the Treasures of Old, which were yours by right."

"Do you think that you'll ever be able to go back?"

"Never. By now, my father will have declared that I am disowned and my name will have been recorded as that of a traitor to Ultan. Should I set foot in my village again, my life will be forfeit."

"I'm sorry."

"Do not be." Kaímar told him firmly. "I am glad to be here, and fortunate beyond words to have a commander like Colonel Carter. I could not have hoped to have the opportunity to serve under her like on Ultan. Under her tutelage, I can learn both the arts of war and the ways of a scholar."

"If you could, would you have been a scholar?" Jonas asked, remembering how absorbed he had been by the texts in the library.

"Perhaps." Kaímar looked pensive. "But I believe that, had I been able to, I would have liked to do as Colonel Carter does and be both."

Jonas smiled briefly before sobering. "I doubt I'll be able to go back to my world either."

"Why not?"

"The address for your planet was found on my world – Langara." Jonas explained. "I did not seek the approval of our leaders before bringing the information to Colonel Carter and her people."

"Would your people not have been interested in the Treasures of Old?" Jonas nodded confirmation. "Why did you wish to prevent them from finding them?"

"I was worried about what would happened if they got their hands on such advanced technology. The nations on my world were at war for a long time. There was peace for a short time in the past couple of years but things have been bad recently. If Ancient technology had been brought into the equation, things would have become much, much worse." He chuckled wryly. "It's not even the first time – about five years ago I did something similar. I don't think I'll be getting a third chance."

"Do you regret your choice?"

Jonas shook his head decisively. "No."

Kaímar regarded him solemnly for a few moments before speaking. "Then we have that in common."

* * *

Captain Sherwin had scarcely set the _Athena_ down on the landing pad in the east pier when Weir's voice came over the radio.

"_Athena_, this is Weir. Welcome to Atlantis."

A flash of light appeared in the Atlantis control room.

"Glad to be here!" Jack declared the instant he rematerialized. "We come bearing gifts."

"You shouldn't have." Sheppard quipped.

"Oh, okay then – you can send it back to the ship, Carter. They don't want it."

"Hey, now, let's not be hasty." McKay interjected quickly. "What is it?"

Hailey presented the ZPM to Weir, who smiled at the visitors. "Thank you. I can't tell you how much we appreciate this. It's really going to be a lot of help here."

"Well," Sam replied, "we have something else here you might appreciate even more."

"Carter baked it herself." Jack chimed in helpfully. "Found the recipe on an Unas planet, of all places."

"An Unas pastry?" McKay looked both intrigued and revolted by the prospect. "What's in it? Goa'uld entrails and Belgian chocolate?"

"And some lemons."

"I don't recommend that you try to eat it." Sam told him, setting her burden down on the nearest console and carefully unwrapping the protective cloth surrounding it – Jack had lost the battle over using wrapping paper and a bow.

McKay moved up to take a look. His interest faded almost instantly. "So what am I looking at? I don't think a miniature ZPM alcove is all that great a discovery, if that's what it is."

"It's not." Sam's tone held the faintest hint of smugness.

"Then what is it?"

"Isn't that _obvious_?" Jack asked dramatically. "It's a… doohickey!"

Ignoring him, Sam addressed Weir. "According to the Ancient archive we found…"

"Which, by the way, we'll be keeping." Jack cut in. "You guys have your own."

"Fair enough." Weir agreed, more interested in the device Sam had constructed. McKay grumbled under his breath.

"This device seems to have been designed to increase the lifespan of a ZPM." Sam explained. "As near as I can tell, the device is placed in the alcove before the ZPM to slow the power drain."

"By how much?" Weir asked eagerly.

"The original design would have slowed the depletion of power to less than five percent, but in the absence of some of the materials the Ancients had available, I had to adapt the schematics. This prototype should increase the lifespan of a ZPM by six hundred percent."

For a moment, even McKay was speechless.

TBC.


	8. Part VIII

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Seasons Nine and Ten would be… different.

* * *

**Part VIII **

"I never thought that I'd get the chance to visit Atlantis." Jonas murmured, awed by his surroundings. "I mean, I've read a bit about it, of course, but to actually be here…"

"A lot of people react that way." Zelenka remarked good-naturedly. "Would you like me to show you around?"

Jonas nodded eagerly. "If it's not too much trouble, Doctor. You've probably got a lot of stuff you have to do and I don't want to…"

"Not a problem!" McKay answered on Zelenka's behalf, without looking up from the schematic he was studying. "If it keeps him occupied and out of trouble, go ahead."

Zelenka muttered a few choice oaths in his native tongue but decided against arguing with the other scientist, choosing instead to usher Jonas out of the lab. "We should start with the hologram. This you have to see."

"I can't wait." Jonas glanced at Sam before leaving. "I'll see you later."

"Have fun." She smiled at the pair as they departed.

"I can't believe that there was nothing about this thing in our database. We could definitely have used it when the city was being attacked." McKay grumbled, scowling down at the device Sam had built as though it was personally responsible for the omission. "I bet I'd have built a way better prototype if there had."

"As near as we could tell, the repository we have on the _Athena_ contains details of Luachra's own research, technology she created after breaking away from the rest of her people as well as the usual Ancient data." Sam explained, wisely refraining from commenting on McKay's second remark. "By the looks of things, there could be plans for a lot more stuff like this stored in the repository, we've only been able to transfer a fraction of the data to disk so far. Hopefully, we'll be able to upload what we have onto the Atlantis computers."

"This is the type of thing that really belongs on Atlantis, you know…" If McKay had been aiming for subtlety, he missed it by at least several thousand light years.

Sam shook her head decisively. "It'll be staying on the _Athena_, at least until the information can be transferred to our computers." She told him firmly, her tone brooking no argument.

"But…"

"General O'Neill's orders." She cut him off smoothly.

"This is so unfair!"

"Cheer up." She smiled. "We can upload what we've got so far onto the computers here, it should keep you busy for a while." She tapped the controls for the computer's data entry point, frowning when it didn't respond.

"I'll do it – you need the ATA gene to activate that function." McKay announced smugly, nudging her sharply. "Move over!"

A low growl from the doorway caught his attention and, seeing the source of the noise, who had been standing silently and unobtrusively until that point, his face paled.

"Who… what… who's that?"

"My apprentice." Her response was calm.

"Your _what_?!"

Sam beckoned for Kaímar to approach. "McKay, meet Kaímar. Kaímar, allow me to introduce Dr Meredith McKay."

If looks could kill, McKay's glare would have fried her to a crisp.

Kaímar regarded him curiously. "Is 'Meredith' not the name of a woman? Dr Rivers is so named."

"It's Meredith Rodney McKay, actually… it's a family name, I just don't usually answer to it…"

Kaímar inclined his head, ignoring McKay's blustering explanations. "I am pleased to meet you, Dr Meredith."

If he had hoped that Sam would intercede on his behalf and explain to her Unas companion that he preferred not to answer to his hated first name, he was doomed to be disappointed. If the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and the stifled giggles were any indication, she was enjoying this and wasn't going to help him any time soon.

Guessing that arguing with Kaímar, who looked more than capable of picking him up and juggling him, would not be the most sensible course of action, McKay kept quiet and got back to work.

* * *

"Sounds like you've all had your hands full here." Jack commiserated once Dr Weir and Colonel Sheppard had told him of some of the events that had transpired since he had last been in contact with the Atlantis expedition.

Both had prepared full reports on each mission the Atlantis teams had undertaken and each noteworthy event, but he had never been a fan of paperwork, preferring to get his information from the horse's mouth.

"A quiet life is overrated, I say." Sheppard said.

"I don't know." Weir grimaced. "There are times when I would like a few months of quiet."

"Wouldn't we all." Jack agreed.

"It hasn't exactly been quiet and peaceful back on Earth either, has it, sir?" Sheppard reminded him.

"Not exactly." Jack acknowledged, remembering the final assault by the Ori, one they had scarcely been able to thwart. _'Thank God for Carter.' _

"The _Athena_ looks like a great ship."

"That she is." Jack agreed. "But I still think she looks like an _Enterprise_."

"There are going to be tears around here when Colonel Carter and her crew leave." Weir observed. "I think nearly every scientist and engineer I've got is dying for a chance to explore the _Athena_ properly."

"And I know that I wouldn't mind checking out those F-303s." Sheppard said, a touch wistfully. Although he had no intention of swapping Atlantis' puddle jumpers for any kind of vessel, the pilot in him longed to try out the new flyers.

General O'Neill seemed to understand. "I don't think that Carter would have any objection if you wanted to take one out for a spin." He suggested, turning to Dr Weir. "Where did you say she was?"

"She's in the lab with Dr McKay." Weir said, leading the way to the room in question where, wonder of wonders, the two scientists were working quite amiably together with Kaímar standing guard.

"Having fun, Carter?" Jack asked.

She looked up from her work, grinning. "Yes, sir."

Seeing Jack, McKay seized the opportunity to make his grievance over the database known. "General O'Neill, please, a database as valuable as this one does not belong on a ship – when are the crew going to have the time to study it properly? If you leave it here with me and my people…"

"Dr Meredith!" Kaímar frowned down at him. "It was Colonel Carter who discovered the way to the Treasures of Old, it is her right to decide their fate."

Weir, who had been half inclined to make a plea of her own to retain the database on Atlantis, abandoned her plans to do so. "I'm sure that Colonel Carter's people will be willing to make a copy for the Atlantis computers, Rodney." She said gently.

"Of course." Sam agreed graciously. "We've been able load part of it onto the computers here already and Lieutenant Hailey is downloading more of the main database as we speak. She should be here shortly with the next disk." She tapped her communicator. "Major Ferretti?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Has Lieutenant Hailey given you any report on her status yet?"

"Yes, ma'am, a few minutes ago – the second disk is nearly done and she's got a couple of others working on the third. May I recommend that Professor Felger join them?"

"Major?"

"I caught him playing with the F-303s again, ma'am." Ferretti's aggrieved tone filtered through the communicator. "The guy needs more to do."

Sam smothered a smile. "Maybe you could ask him if he'd like to join us on Atlantis?" She suggested, turning to Weir. "If it's alright with you, Doctor?"

"It's fine. All of your crew are more than welcome here. Dr McKay won't mind showing Professor Felger around, will you Rodney?" Weir suggested.

Sam smirked. "I'm sure they'll get along fine. You can send him down, Major. And speaking of the F-303s," She added, guessing from Sheppard's expression what he wanted to ask her. "Perhaps Colonel Sheppard would like to take a look, maybe take one out?"

"I'll arrange it with Captain Hayden." Ferretti promised.

"Thanks. Carter out."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Jack asked Sheppard good-naturedly. "Better get going."

Sheppard needed no second prompting.

* * *

Leaving the medical bay with Kaímar in tow, Sam rolled her sleeve down and began making her way to the control room. They were making good progress installing the modified ZPM alcove, despite McKay's constant hovering and frequent, unwanted comments.

After his fifth rendition of "I would have done a much better job on this myself," with the ever-popular chorus of "All this stuff should really stay on Atlantis where it belongs", Sam had offered to take the alcove away and leave her notes with him so he could start over from scratch if he wanted.

That had silenced him… for all of twelve seconds.

She had finally gotten sick of listening to him – though she had to admit McKay kind of grew on you. A bit like athlete's foot, really. She had decided to take some time off and see to another small project, and now wanted to check in with _Athena_ and to fill Jack and Dr Weir in on their progress.

"Sam!" Spotting her, McKay jogged to catch up. "Where are you headed?" he asked as he fell into step alongside her, pointedly trying very hard not to notice her Hulk-sized bodyguard. He had decided that he had gotten off to such a bad start with Kaímar, that it was safer to just ignore him altogether.

"Control room. Just filling in General O'Neill and Dr. Weir. And letting them know I won't be swapping you for Felger on the _Athena_."

"Hilarious," McKay retorted sourly. "It's not my fault you can't stand to have anyone smarter than you on the same ship."

Sam smirked mischievously. "No, I just figure if I'm gonna have a member of my crew constantly fantasizing about me, I'd rather take the guy whose fantasies leave me clothed."

"That was one time, and I was suffering from concussive head trauma!" McKay protested, shoving her lightly as they approached Weir's office.

Sam laughed, then froze as a strangled cry arose beside her and McKay disappeared from the corner of her eye. Before she could even turn around he was gone. She found herself facing Kaímar instead, and as she opened her mouth to speak, a loud thump and a wail of agony echoed through the control room.

"Kaímar, you didn't…"

The expression on his face left her in no doubt that he had.

"He was just fooling around!" Rushing to the railing, she called down, "Rodney? You okay?"

He groaned before responding. "This hurts so much more without a personal shield!"

TBC.

_Authors' Note: We hope to have the next chapter out sooner than this one was. In the meantime, please review and don't forget to let us know if you would like to see "SG-1" in the near future._


	9. Part IX

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Seasons Nine and Ten would be… different.

**Authors' Note:** We started this story before we heard about the events of 'Sunday'.

* * *

**Part IX**

"Kaímar, I understand that you just wanted to help but you can't go around tossing people over balconies." Sam tried to explain.

Her apprentice gave her a quizzical look. "He attempted to strike you, Colonel Carter." He stated, as though this excused everything - and to Kaímar's mind it did. "I merely let him know that this was an unwise action."

"Man's got a point." Jack joked.

Sam frowned at him. "You're not helping… sir." She took a deep breath before returning her attention to Kaímar. "You could have hurt Dr McKay very badly." She told him quietly.

Kaímar shrugged. "He is alive."

"Rodney's going to be fine." Weir spoke up peaceably. "It was a nasty tumble, but Dr Beckett tells me that there were no broken bones or any kind of permanent damage."

"He will not be so fortunate if he attempts to harm Colonel Carter a second time." Kaímar warned gravely.

"He was never trying to hurt me." Sam tried to explain.

"Then he should not have laid hands on you."

"He's a civilian…"

"Kaímar," Jack spoke up. "Do you really think that McKay poses any threat to Carter?"

Kaímar looked at him as if he had lost his wits. "Of course not. Colonel Carter is a great warrior, Dr Meredith is no fighter."

"Then you didn't really need to defend her, did you?"

"It is my duty as Colonel Carter's apprentice to defend her against all harm."

Jack suppressed a sigh. "Fair enough, but I think that maybe Carter wouldn't mind if you waited for her say-so before defending her against anyone who isn't really a threat – people like Dr Mere… McKay."

Kaímar considered Jack's words carefully before turning back to Sam. "Is this your wish, Colonel Carter?"

"It is." She agreed immediately.

"Then I will abide by your wishes." He said solemnly. "And I apologize for having displeased you."

"Everyone makes mistakes." Sam assured him, worried that the Ultan customs might have included penalties for an apprentice who displeased their commander. She turned to Dr Weir. "I'm so sorry about all this…" Sam began but Weir waved her apology aside.

"Don't worry, Colonel. Rodney's a bit sore but that's it." She gave Kaímar a slight smile. "I think that we can chalk this one up to a cultural misunderstanding." She looked up at Jack. "Still, maybe Rodney might feel better if one of the Ancient devices could be left with him for study…" She hinted jokingly.

Jack grinned. "Nice try."

"It was worth a shot."

"Is McKay well enough to have visitors?" Sam asked.

Weir nodded. "Carson said he doesn't need to stay in the infirmary, though he won't be sitting comfortably for a while."

"Thanks." Sam said, looking up at Kaímar. "I think we need to take a trip there."

He inclined his head. "As you wish."

* * *

"I'm so glad that everybody's finding this so amusing." McKay groused, scowling venomously at the pillow in front of him, wishing he could roll onto his back and glare at whoever was giggling behind him but knowing that to do so would be far from comfortable. "I could have died!"

"You'd have needed to fall a bit further for that to happen." Beckett said, unmoved by the other man's dramatic declaration. "You're fine."

"That's easy for you to say – I don't see you lying here in agony!"

"Rodney, after all the painkillers you've swallowed, I'm amazed that you're still conscious." Beckett told him, before smirking slightly. "But if you're really in so much pain, I can always give you a little shot to help."

Correctly guessing where the shot would be administered, McKay subsided.

"Hello, Rodney." Zelenka said cheerfully as soon as he and Jonas crossed the threshold of the infirmary. "I would have thought that you'd know better than to pick a fight with an Unas of all people." He chided playfully.

"I didn't pick a fight with him!"

"Rumour has it that he got mad when you hit Colonel Carter." Zelenka continued.

"Kaímar is very loyal to Sam." Jonas spoke up.

"I never hit her!" McKay protested. "I was kidding around. We both were! I barely touched her and the next thing I knew, that apprentice of hers had thrown me over the railings!"

"At least he didn't challenge you to a fight to the death." Zelenka pointed out cheerfully. "I don't think that you'd have walked away from it if he had. Aren't you lucky that Kaímar decided to let you off lightly?"

"Yes, very lightly." McKay muttered sarcastically. "I was lucky that nothing was broken."

"Is it possible to break your… that area?" Jonas asked delicately.

"Actually…" Beckett began to speak but he was cut off when a heavy tread preceded a pair of visitors.

"How's your patient, Doctor?" Sam asked, leading Kaímar into the infirmary.

"He'll be fine, Colonel." Beckett looked up at Kaímar. "It's not the first time Rodney has been tossed over that railing, you know."

"That does not surprise me."

"Kaímar!" Sam spoke his name reprovingly while Zelenka doubled over laughing. She indicated the bed on which McKay was lying, face down, with a nod of her head.

Her apprentice marched over to stand next to the top of the bed. "I apologize for throwing you over the balcony, Dr Meredith." He recited tonelessly.

Turning over slightly, taking care not to dislodge the icepack balanced on his backside, McKay scowled up at him. "You're not really sorry, are you?" He asked accusingly.

"I am not." Kaímar agreed readily. "But Colonel Carter requested that I apologize."

McKay muttered incoherently.

"That's not very gracious of you, Rodney." Zelenka chided him. "It was just a misunderstanding, after all."

"What was just a misunderstanding?" Sheppard asked, entering the infirmary in time to hear Zelenka's last sentence. He looked down at McKay, and at the oddly placed ice pack. "And how did you end up in here?"

"He threw me over the railings on the way to Elizabeth's office." McKay muttered, glowering in the general direction of a less than repentant Kaímar.

"What did you do?"

"Why would you assume that I did something wrong?" McKay demanded.

Sheppard grinned. "No reason." He turned to Sam. "That F-303 flies like a dream." He told her enthusiastically.

"Glad you approve."

"Ever flown a puddle jumper?"

Sam shook her head. "I've flown _in_ one."

"Want me to teach you how?"

"You can't." McKay interrupted, his voice slightly muffled by his pillow. "She doesn't have the Ancient gene."

"Yes she does." Beckett corrected. "Carried out the gene therapy earlier on. It took effect right away."

* * *

The Jumper glided effortlessly a mere ten feet above the water, tossing a tall spray of foamy sea water in its wake.

"You're a natural," Sheppard commented. "Most of the pilots in Atlantis took weeks before they could get off the ground without the Jumper shaking like a leaf for the whole trip."

"We headed anywhere in particular?" Sam queried.

"We might as well head to the mainland and check in on the Athosians."

"Sure. Which way is it?"

Before Sheppard could reply, a map of Lantia appeared on the HUD, and immediately zoomed from an overhead view of the globe down to the mainland. The landscape was displayed in aquamarine, and the Athosian settlement was highlighted in a blinking yellow.

"Definitely a natural," said a stunned Sheppard. "We're still finding all the little extras on this thing."

"Does it serve blue jello?" Sam joked.

Sheppard chuckled, then paused as a pair of hands appeared beside them - one holding a small plastic dish of blue jello and a spoon, the other, a turkey sandwich. "And it looks like we just found the snack dispenser. Thanks!"

"You are welcome." Spotting the surprise on Sam's face, Kaímar simply said "General O'Neill suggested I bring some food for us all, not knowing how long we would be gone. He commented that learning to fly a ship with your mind would keep you occupied for a considerable length of time."

Munching on his sandwich, Sheppard indicated a small clearing several miles away. "Just take us down there." He instructed.

The Jumper came to a stop a few feet above the clearing, lowering gently to hit the ground with a soft thud.

"Perfect landing." Sheppard praised, downing the last bite of his sandwich before moving to the back of the Jumper and opening the doors. The sky was beginning to grow slightly pink and several people were already gathering to meet them. "Hey, Teyla, Ronan." He greeted his teammates.

"Hello, John." Teyla responded, before extending her hand to Sam. "You must be Colonel Carter. My name is Teyla Emmagan."

"How did you…"

"Dr McKay talks about you. A lot." Teyla informed her. She looked up at her large companion. "And who is this?"

"Kaímar, son of…" He paused for a moment, his face completely unreadable. Then – "My name is Kaímar."

Sensing questions were better left unasked; she merely shook his hand, as did Ronan, introducing himself. "Ronan Dex."

Addressing Sam, Teyla told her "You're just in time for the harvest feast. Would you like to join us?"

"Was that tonight?" Sheppard asked, apparently quite surprised. "That's good timing."

"There will be songs and dancing and story-telling by the fire." Teyla explained to Sam. "There are also games of skill and strength. Among my people, it is a matter for great celebration if we are in one home long enough to raise a harvest."

"I don't know…" Sam began. "It sounds fun, but I should really be getting back."

"We should stay." Sheppard interrupted hurriedly. He looked slightly sheepish. "General O'Neill _ordered_ me to make sure you took the night off. I don't want to be a lieutenant again."

"There's wrestling matches," Ronan added, sizing Kaímar up with interest. "Think you can take me on?"

"Colonel Carter has asked that I don't fight those who are mean her no harm." Kaímar declined gravely.

"I could punch her if you like."

"Ronan!"

"It's alright." Sam patted Kaímar on the shoulder. "Have fun – just don't kill him."

* * *

"My compliments to the chef." Sheppard praised enthusiastically, finishing his fourth bowl of stew, licking his bowl clean before turning his attention to the platter of cakes.

"It is fortunate that we had such a large harvest." Halling joked, also eyeing Kaímar, who, along with Ronan, had just arrived by the fire and settling on the ground, Ronan beside Teyla, Kaímar just behind Sam. The Unas had the barest hint of a welt on his right cheek. Ronan's face could barely be recognised under a mass of purple bruises.

Sam was stunned and horrified when she saw Ronan's face, whereas Sheppard simply turned to Ronan and cheerfully asked, "How did it go?"

"I call it a draw," Ronan replied, clearly unconcerned with being a massive walking bruise, and reaching for a bowl Halling handed him. "Thanks."

The lilting tunes of the Athosian musicians formed a pleasant atmosphere for the meal.

Though initially slightly wary – she had, after all, had more than one bad experience with alien cuisine – Sam found that she thoroughly enjoyed the fare provided, an opinion Kaímar seemed to share.

Teyla was hospitably pressing a plate of cakes on her when the music hushed and the musicians joined the circle, along with those who had been competing in the games. To Sam's amusement, a group of children crept closer to Kaímar, the bravest of them climbing into his lap.

The conversation died down as an old man rose, signalling for silence.

"Long ago, a time that is scarcely remembered now, before the Wraith, when our ancestors were young, every year the harvest would be celebrated…"

* * *

**_Two days later _**

"Hope I didn't forget my toothbrush." Jack commented, shouldering his bag as the Atlantis techs began the dialling sequence for Earth. "Though I gotta say, I miss regular toilets. The facilities here are just bizarre…"

"You get used to it." Sheppard shrugged.

Jack shook his head pityingly before turning to Teal'c. "Take care of Carter for me. Don't let her work too hard while I'm gone, will you?"

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "How do you suggest that I prevent her?"

As he had never been able to come up with an answer for that in the last decade, Jack let it go.

The stargate sprang to life and Walter's voice filtered through, announcing that he was clear to return.

Sam rejoined them. "Pity you can't stick around any longer," she commented.

"Relax, Carter. You'll be fine. You got all of the best people we ever worked with here – 'cept maybe Walter. And Siler's going home too. Besides, Hammond's been retiring for as long as I've known him, and he wasn't very happy to see his workload shoot up the past couple of weeks."

"It's just…"

"You're ready." He assured her firmly. "And you just passed your evaluation with flying colours," he added.

"Really?"

"You'd be coming home with me if you hadn't." He told her before patting her shoulder gently. "You're going to be great."

TBC.


	10. Part X

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Seasons Nine and Ten would be… different.

* * *

**Part X**

The Athosians had piled quite a bit of fresh food into the ships stores, along with the recipes for some of their more popular dishes. Sam sat at the large table in her quarters, along with Ferretti, Jonas and Kaímar.

The door to her quarters chimed. "Come in."

Teal'c's expression was somber as he entered, nodding briefly by way of greeting before taking a seat next to Sam.

"Isn't Bra'tac coming?" Sam asked.

Teal'c hesitated a moment before speaking. "Master Bra'tac sends his apologies. He is engaged in kel'no'reem."

"I thought that you guys didn't have to do that anymore, now that you're using tretonin." Jonas looked puzzled.

Teal'c didn't seem to have an answer to this, and Sam felt that more questions in front of everybody else would be a bad idea. But Bra'tac had barely said a word the whole time he'd been on the ship, and seemed almost constantly preoccupied. Having been consumed by her studies of the Ancient technology from Ultan and her duties as ships commander, she admitted to herself that she simply hadn't thought to find out what the problem was.

Sam had been somewhat taken aback when Teal'c had approached her on Atlantis and asked that Bra'tac be allowed to remain on-board. Assuming the Jaffa master would not want to stay away from the Jaffa Nation's council for very long, she had imagined he would return to Earth from Atlantis, and to Dakara from there. Despite her surprise she had been more than happy to agree. Now, she made a mental note to get Teal'c alone and find out _exactly_ what was going on with his mentor.

"This smells delicious." Jonas said, eyeing the laden plates set out on the table, already forgetting his query about Bra'tac.

"Beats MREs, anyway," Ferretti joked.

"Just about everything does," Sam pointed out with perfect truth. She gestured towards their meal. "No sense letting it go cold, guys."

For a few minutes, conversation was minimal as they ate the delicious soup that had been sent up from the mess hall. They were midway through the main course when Sam started to get down to business.

"We'll be arriving at our next stop at some point tomorrow," she told them. "It's a galaxy Earth's astronomers haven't even spotted yet. It's listed in the Ancient database, and it has a stargate network. With our own gate onboard, we should be able to explore several planets at a time if we send out teams from the ship."

"So we need to pick teams?" Ferretti asked rhetorically. "Can I get Kaímar?"

"I must stay with Colonel Carter and learn from her." The Unas objected immediately.

"Maybe it would be a good idea if you joined one of the teams," Sam suggested hopefully. Although she was growing fond of Kaímar, having a constant shadow that had to duck under every doorway and still made quite a few people go pale was not an ideal situation. "It will give you a chance to get some experience with offworld missions and you'd probably be bored if you had to hang around my office all day."

"As you wish."

Sam turned back to Ferretti. "I figured the first team could be you, Teal'c, Jonas and Kaímar. And now that Bra'tac has decided to stay onboard, maybe he'd be willing to lead the second team." She suggested to Teal'c, who nodded, though he looked less than enthusiastic.

"What are we going to call these teams anyway? Ferretti asked. "Is my team gonna be SG-1?" He joked.

"Sorry." Sam shook her head. "Your team is Athena-1."

"I can live with that."

Sam now addressed Jonas. "I've arranged for a spot for you in the science labs, including office space. It's not quite your own department, but it's kind of being thrown together in a hurry. Obviously, your first assignment will be deciphering the ancient database. That oughta take quite a while. I can assign you an assistant too."

Kaímar cocked his head at this, but said nothing. Noticing his reaction, Jonas figured he was torn between his wish to study the Ancients and his self-assigned duties as Sam's bodyguard. Sam had apparently noticed too, and nodded her approval. "The job's yours if you want it." Kaímar beaming delightedly made a very odd sight.

* * *

"Entering the upper ionosphere. Should we settle into high orbit, ma'am?" Captain Sherwin asked from the helm.

"Is the planet inhabited?"

"Yes, ma'am," Dr Rivers told her. "I've located the stargate. It's above ground, and the DHD seems active. No evidence of habitation within almost seven hundred miles of the gate. Barring small craft like the puddle-jumpers on Atlantis, I'm guessing it's not in regular use. Our gate should be able to dial using its point of origin."

"Is there a suitable landing site near the gate? We should probably try setting down when we can until we've broken in the engines. Our dialing computer will be able to extrapolate gate addresses from here."

"Yes, ma'am." Captain Sherwin said, tapping the controls and bringing the ship to a gentle landing.

Sam smiled across at Ferretti. "Ready to take your team out, Major?"

"Yes, ma'am," he responded immediately, grinning. "Say the word and we'll be geared up in ten minutes."

"Good." She looked down at her own console. "Sergeant Atherson has three MALPs ready to go. Athena-2 and 3 will be going out too. You know the drill. Look around for anything new or weird, make contact with any locals you may come across, and find out about any trade networks or local bigwigs."

"Bigwigs?" Ferretti couldn't help chuckling. You've been hanging around General O'Neill too much.

Sam smiled too, blushing slightly.

Thirty minutes later, Athena-3 disappeared into the event horizon of the gate, which Ferretti had noted to Sam more loosely resembled the gates in Pegasus.

Sitting in her office, going through the files of the various applicants aspiring to fill the vacant places on the _Athena_, Sam's attention was only half on her work as she wondered how her teams were faring on their missions.

Now she could understand how difficult it had been for General Hammond and later for Jack to send SG teams on their missions, not knowing whether they would return safely – or at all.

Less than one hour later, Sherwin's voice came over the PA, calling Sam to the bridge. When she got there, she heard Hailey's voice on the radio.

"…wounded. We're cut off from the gate." Sam was thankful for the remote devices McKay had managed to piece together based on the puddle-jumpers own remote dialing system. The fact that he'd never mentioned this the whole time they'd been on the planet had made her want to deck him, and then it had come out that Dr. Weir had actually had to force him to provide her with the remotes. Without them, they probably wouldn't even know there was a problem.

Switching on the radio by her chair, Sam called out to Hailey. "What happened, Lieutenant?"

"No idea, ma'am. We were at some kind of bazaar, and all hell broke loose. We thought it was some sort of riot at first, then we heard heavy weapons fire. It's a ship, Colonel. Ground forces too. They don't seem to care who they cut down. Master Bra'tac doesn't seem to badly hurt, but Bryant's a mess. Ground forces surrounding the gate."

"Are you under fire right now?"

"No, ma'am. We're clear for the moment, but I don't know how long Bryant's gonna last. Heavy bleeding, and the wound goes right through. Cauterized at the back. I'm worried about his lungs."

Rapidly checking the planets location on the computer, Sam replied with "Hold tight, guys. _Athena_'s en route. ETA forty minutes."

"Roger that, _Athena_. Hailey out."

Captain Sherwin had already begun the launch sequence. Sam ordered Rivers to dial teams 1 and 3 and let them know what was going on. "Tell them, barring any problems they've to stay where they are for now. Anything goes wrong where they are, they're to return here and wait."

"Yes, ma'am."

The ship exited hyperspace thirty-two minutes later, and the cloak was immediately engaged. "Arm missiles, and all forward rail guns," Sam ordered. "Stand by with the shields. We're not here to pick a fight, but we have no idea what's out there."

"Colonel, I have a lock on the team's radio signal. Weapons fire in the area."

Quite surprised to find how calm her voice was, Sam gave the order to beam the team directly to the medical bay, where Dr. Brightman had been forewarned of the situation as they knew it. That done, she was about to give the order to scan for the enemy ship, when she realized she didn't need to. She could already see it, and so could Sherwin. "Holy shi-"

"Get us out of here," Sam commanded, the calm fading from her voice. "Now!"

TBC.

_Authors' Note: Hopefully, SG-1 – complete with a couple of new members – should be appearing within the next couple chapters._


	11. Part XI

**Disclaimer: **We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Seasons Nine and Ten would have been… different.

* * *

**Part XI**

The infirmary door slid open, revealing pandemonium. Of the team that had been on the planet, only the 2IC, Captain Kyle Grey, was completely unharmed. Hailey had numerous small cuts on her face and hands, and Bra'tac's left arm was burned, and he limped slightly as he backed away from a nurse, insisting Bryant be seen to first, even though Lieutenant Bryant already had a crowd of nurse and two doctors gathered around him.

Although they had been able to radio Athena-1 and Athena-3 and both teams had returned safely, Sam had been unable to leave the bridge to check on her people until now.

With Kaímar, as always, immediately behind her, the first person Sam approached was Dr. Brightman, who was leaning over a console studying scans detailing Bryant's injuries. Sam's throat felt awfully dry as she asked, "How bad is it?"

Brightman was clearly worried, a deep frown slapped firmly across her face. "Bad," she spat. "The weapon seems to have been some sort of hybrid. Superheated plasma and lightweight metal. Went right through him, except for this." She indicated a small specimen jar beside her. A small, disheveled piece of dark metal lay within. "Melted, then cooled. We found it embedded in the exit wound. The round – I'm guessing about the size of a twelve-gauge shotgun shell – must've been traveling very quickly, for something this light and that hot to go through him like that. At the speed of a bullet, the whole thing would be deep inside the wound. It would have _liquidated_ his right lung before cooling. As it is, the sheer force collapsed his lung, shattered several bones including his collarbone, and dislocated his right shoulder. He was out from the shock before he even hit the ground, according to Captain Grey. I'm surprised the shock didn't kill him right away."

Derek Bryant was twenty-six years old, and had joined the United States Air Force for the free tuition. Excited by his training and surprised by his abilities, he had stayed in the service after his mandatory two years were up, but soon began thinking he had made a mistake, and had been considering leaving and putting his engineering studies to better use in private sector R&D, when an SGC officer, a family friend, had placed his file on General Landry's desk for consideration. He'd just recently completed his training for assignment at the SGC, but the reports from his instructors had been so positive Sam had approved him for service on _Athena_ without even meeting him. Sam couldn't even see him now, with all the medics flocking around him, but she could picture the ruined young officer all-too-clearly, and smell the charred flesh. Working hard to keep her last meal down, reminding herself that it was her job to maintain order on the ship, she almost croaked, "Is he going to live?"

Brightman surprised her by nodding slightly. "It looks that way, but I don't know if he'll fully recover." The bed was now being wheeled away into the O.R. "He'll need a lot of grafting. This rib is gone. We can't assess any possible spinal damage accurately until we open him up. His arm… I don't know if we can save it."

Bryant was being moved into an O.R., and Brightman rose to follow. "Keep me posted," Sam told her, then moved across the room to Bra'tac, who was finally allowing his wound to be checked, though he didn't seem very concerned about it. Looking at it herself, Sam didn't think it looked _too_ bad – or at least, it was nothing that would bother a Jaffa. "Are you okay?"

The Jaffa master spoke without looking at her. He never took his eyes off Bryant, who could now be seen in the next room through the thick Perspex screen. "This is my doing," he stated flatly. "The boy was wounded defending me from one of the enemy foot soldiers. I was unaware of his presence until he fired. Lt. Bryant was attempting to pull me out of the path of the blast." He went silent for a moment, before looking into her eyes and repeating, "This is my doing."

"I doubt that," Sam told him. She knew that Jaffa in general were hard on themselves, and Bra'tac was worse than most in that regard. "Dr. Brightman said they should be able to help him. With a little luck, he'll make a full recovery. We'll debrief in an hour." She was about to turn and leave when she paused for a moment. "This wasn't your fault."

"No." Again he looked away, and his words fell like hammer-strokes. "This old man has suffered too many failures. There will be no more."

"Do not speak of such things!" Sam jumped at the words, and almost did again when she turned and saw the look on Teal'c's face. He was eyeing his mentor furiously, and Sam wondered briefly if he even noticed her standing between them.

Bra'tac, for his part, stiffened as a result of his pupil's outrage, his knuckles turning white with the grip on his staff. For a moment he seemed ready to lash out at the larger man – something Sam did _not_ want to be in the middle of – but the rage left him quickly, and he turned back to his observation of the O.R.

Sam stood frozen as Teal'c took a moment to calm himself. "Colonel Carter, can I speak to you in private?" Without waiting for her reply, he turned and left.

Sam walked over to Hailey. Apart from the cuts – caused by exploding debris, Sam imagined, and not all that serious, she seemed fine, but Sam asked anyway. "You okay?" The diminutive younger woman nodded, wincing slightly as the nurse dabbed her cheek with an antiseptic. "We'll debrief in one hour. You may need to remind Bra'tac."

"Yes ma'am," she responded quietly. She looked as worried as Sam felt, her eyes moving between Bra'tac and Bryant.

Outside, Sam rounded on Teal'c angrily. "What the hell is going with him?" Teal'c appeared to considering his response, but what Sam didn't want to hear right now was a prepared answer to preserve his master's dignity. "The truth, Teal'c. The whole story."

He regarded her silently for a moment. "Master Bra'tac is dying."

It took Sam a moment to find her voice again. "Wh… what are you talking about?"

"Tretonin has begun to fail him. The process seems much the same as if his symbiote had matured, though it appears to be happening more slowly. He is frequently in a great deal of pain, and he tires easily of late." Looking past Sam, he saw Kaímar emerging from the medical bay, and gesturing for her to follow him, made his way down the corridor. Before doing so, she gestured to the Unas to hang back.

"How slowly," she asked as she caught up with Teal'c. "How long has this been going on?"

"A little over a year," he said at last, "though he has been growing worse in recent months."

Sam couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Dammit, Teal'c!" Ferretti was right, it occurred to her for an instant. She was hanging around Jack too much. Forcing herself back to the present, she asked him "Why haven't you said anything about this before?"

"It was not my place. Master Bra'tac did not want to die an old man in his bed. That is not how old warriors pass."

"So you asked me to let him lead one of my teams? If his symptoms hit him down there he could have gotten the whole team killed!"

Another brief moment of silence. Then - "I have been monitoring him closely. If his symptoms had advanced to the point where he could no longer function as a warrior, I would have informed you, against his wishes, as it were."

Over the past ten years, Sam had put up with more than her fair share of the problems caused by Jaffa pride, but this was ridiculous. "He can't lead a team in this condition, Teal'c. And I have to inform Dr. Brightman. Don't!" she almost yelled as Teal'c began to argue. Working hard to calm herself, she continued. "You should have told me about this a long time ago. You should have told General O'Neill, if you didn't want to talk to me about it." Seeing him drop his eyes, she relented. "I'm sorry, Teal'c. But now, more than ever, you can't keep things like this from me. We're all alone out here. I have to know what's going on with my crew."

Turning to go back to the bridge, she spoke over her shoulder. "I want you at the briefing."

* * *

Everybody was already in the briefing room when Sam got there. Pouring herself a glass of water as she sat down, she turned to Bra'tac. "Alright, from the start. What happened down there?"

The old Jaffa seemed to have gotten hold of himself by now, though she noticed him eyeing Teal'c angrily before he spoke. Apparently he knew the truth was out. "Less than a mile from the Chapp'ai was a large market place. As we approached, a boy crossed our path and offered to introduce us to some of the traders, a few of whom lived in the area, while most of the others came from nearby village, and a handful came through the Chapp'ai from a nearby system. Most seemed human, though a handful were of a species I had not encountered before."

"The first trader we spoke to commented on our attire and equipment. Naturally, he was curious about where we had come from, and suggested we find him in a nearby tavern in the evening. It was not long after this meeting was arranged that the attack began. A ship appeared overhead and immediately began firing on the marketplace. The bombardment lasted barely a minute, but was sufficient to destroy many of the buildings in the area. I do not know how many were killed, but I saw dozens of bodies, and this was before the ground troops appeared among the rubble."

"The ground troops, Sam stopped him. "Were they human?"

"Yes. The moment they appeared they began firing in every direction, cutting down everyone they saw."

"That was it? They just showed up and started blasting _everyone_?"

"They didn't seem interested in taking prisoners," Captain Grey put in. "Geran – the kid who was showing us around before it started – said there were places to hide." The whole team shifted somewhat uncomfortably now. "He was shot before he could lead us away," Grey told her with his eyes lowered. "There wasn't much left."

"We managed to find a way out of the marketplace towards a forest grove, but not before Bryant was hit. It took us awhile to get him clear. That done, Lieutenant Hailey went to take a look at the gate."

"Two dozen ground troops were waiting there," Hailey told her, "so I dialed in by remote. They were pretty surprised when the DHD lit up. I think they figured somebody was standing there using some sort of cloak. Started firing over and around it, then started checking the immediate area, but it was getting a little dark, and I was far enough away that there was no chance of them seeing me. After that, we pretty much just sat tight until _Athena _arrived.

Not much else we could do. They cut through that place pretty quickly."

"Well, I've already sent a message to Earth, and CC'd Atlantis, too. They're not all that far from this galaxy, and this mess could spill into Pegasus. We've already seen these guys in our own galaxy," she told them all, much to their wide-eyed surprise.

"Colonel?" Ferretti asked.

"About three years ago, the _Prometheus_ was attacked on its return to Earth after being left on P3X-744. I got a good look at the ship in orbit over the planet. It was the same ship, or at least the same model."

"I don't think I've heard about that," Jonas commented. "Haven't had a chance to catch up on things I missed."

"Well, there's not a lot to tell," Sam said. "They kicked our asses. We tried using a short hyperspace jump to hide in a nearby nebula, but the whole crew was abducted before we got there. They missed me because I'd taken a knock to the head. I was out cold, and when I woke up, I was alone on the _Prometheus._"

"Did you manage to get the crew back?" Jonas queried.

"It took some doing, but yeah. The _Prometheus_ was trapped inside the nebula, and so was the enemy ship. After I found a way out, I bartered with the enemy ship for the release of the crew in order for me getting them out of there. They never actually responded to my communication, but they sent the crew back, then left once we were all out of the nebula."

"And you're sure these are the same guys?" Ferretti asked her.

"No mistaking those ships. And the M.O. is the same. Both seem to have a penchant for unprovoked assaults. I don't know why they weren't taking prisoners on the planet, but whoever these guys are they're dangerous."

"So what are we gonna do?" Ferretti asked. "After we heard what was happening, we asked the people where we were if they knew anything about any local threats. They came up blank. We don't know anything about these guys except they like killing."

"I mentioned all this in my message to the SGC. For now, we don't have a leg to stand on. We don't even have a full crew compliment yet. We're going back to Earth."

TBC

_Authors' Note: The new SG-1 will be making an appearance in the not too distant future, and Athena will be returning to combat this new enemy. In the meantime, please review._


	12. Part XII

**Disclaimer: **We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1' or any of the characters associated with the show. If we did, Seasons Nine and Ten would be… different.

**Authors' Note:** We set up the backstory for the defeat of the Ori a while back; chances are Athena canon will wind up being very different to the show's canon.

* * *

**Part XII**

The mood onboard the _Athena_ was subdued. Everybody knew what had happened to Athena-2 on their first mission and of the injuries Lieutenant Bryant had suffered. Although he had only become involved with the Stargate Program a short time ago, the young man was very well-liked by those who knew him and, had Dr Brightman permitted it, the infirmary would have been crowded out with well-wishers but she had thought that it was best to restrict the number of visitors.

Bryant was still unconscious at present, something all those who knew the full extent of his injuries considered a mercy.

Although the speedy intervention of Dr Brightman and the rest of the medical staff had ensured that he would survive, they had been unable to repair the extensive damage to his arm.

Watching the young officer sleep, Sam could feel the burden of her command as though it was a physical weight. Although she knew that stepping through the stargate – or, indeed, onto the _Athena_ in the first place – had been a calculated risk that Lieutenant Bryant had willingly accepted, she still felt guilty about what had happened, that she had been unable to prevent it.

The lives and well being of everyone onboard the _Athena_ were her responsibility and right now that thought terrified her.

"Colonel Carter?" Dr Brightman approached the bed, waiting until Sam had moved aside before checking her patient's vital signs and ensuring that his morphine drip was still in place.

"How is he?" As soon as the words were spoken, Sam wished that she could take them back. They had no sarcophagus, no Goa'uld healing device, no miracle cure. It was a testament to the skill and dedication of the medical staff that Bryant was alive at all. He was not going to bounce back to full health overnight.

"His vitals are stable," Brightman responded, "and there's no sign of infection."

"That's good." She couldn't drag her gaze away from his arm, swathed in white bandages, couldn't stop picturing what was under them, how his arm had looked when he had first been brought to the infirmary.

"He's not in any pain, Colonel," Brightman's voice was gentle, "I promise you that. We'll make sure that he's comfortable."

"What about his…" She couldn't bring herself to refer to his arm aloud.

"The surgical team repaired what nerve damage they could," Brightman reported, "however, I'm afraid that there is no way of knowing whether or not Lieutenant Bryant will regain the use of the limb, not until he is conscious and we can run more tests. Until then, all we can really do is wait and hope for the best."

"I understand." Sam's voice was soft. "You'll keep me posted?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." She stood there for a few more minutes, watching Dr Brightman work, before excusing herself and making her way to her office.

Kaímar seemed to sense her need for solitude and elected to stand guard outside her office instead of standing behind her.

Sitting in the big leather chair that had been a gift from General Hammond to celebrate her promotion, she went over the events of recent weeks in her mind, trying to remember every detail of Bra'tac's behaviour, wanting – needing – to know if there had been anything that should have tipped her off about his condition, anything she had missed.

She didn't blame the Jaffa master for what had happened; she was realistic enough to know that the events on the planet could, and probably would have played out as they did even if he had been in perfect health and fitness, but the thought that she had put one of her teams at risk by sending them out under Bra'tac's command when he was unfit for combat horrified her.

Athena-2 had been made up of relatively inexperienced young officers; of the three, Lieutenant Hailey had the most offworld experience and that had been with a team than concentrated on scientific missions rather than frontline exploration.

When Teal'c had recommended Bra'tac for command of one of the teams, she had thought that Athena-2 would be the perfect team for him, knowing that there was a lot that he could teach them.

Was there any way she could have known?

While it was true that Bra'tac had been quiet of late, he had never been what she would have called chatty and she had thought that he might be concerned about how the Jaffa Nation was faring in her absence. She had been surprised when Teal'c had asked her to allow Bra'tac to remain onboard, but not unduly so. She had never thought of Bra'tac as somebody who could easily trade the life of a warrior for that of a politician and had assumed that he was missing the action and she had been delighted to have somebody with him skills onboard.

Her interview with Teal'c had been more frustrating than enlightening.

Getting information from him had been a slow process; while he had apologized for recommending Bra'tac for command despite being aware that his physical condition, not to mention his mental state, could have put his team at risk, Teal'c had been reluctant to betray his mentor's confidence by filling her in on the details of his illness.

For the briefest of instants, she had been half-tempted to take Kaímar up on his offer to 'persuade' Teal'c to speak but at the same time she did not want to push him too hard.

Eventually, Teal'c had admitted that his knowledge of Bra'tac's illness was very limited, he knew only what he had been told and that wasn't much.

If Sam wanted details, she was going to have to get them from the horse's mouth.

After the mission briefing, Dr Brightman had kept Bra'tac in the infirmary overnight for observation, despite his objections but as his injuries had not been serious, she could not justify keeping him there against his wishes any longer. Once released from medical care, the Jaffa master had retired to his own quarters and had not stirred from them since then, refusing all visitors. Even Teal'c had been turned away.

Sam knew better than to expect that Bra'tac would turn up if she asked him to come to her office, so instead she made her way to his quarters. Though Kaímar accompanied her as far as the senior officers' quarters, he remained at the top of the corridor at her request.

There was no response to her first knock… or to her second… or to her seventh.

Had she not known that he was within, she would have thought his quarters empty for there was no sound to be heard.

Sighing, she knocked again. "Bra'tac, I know you're in there." There was no response. "If I have to, I can override the locks on this door," she warned quietly. "I'd rather not have to do that."

For a moment, she thought that she was going to have to carry out her threat, then the door slid back.

"Come in, Colonel Carter." Bra'tac's voice was weary as he gestured for her to take a seat. "You are here to tell me that I may no longer lead your people, hmm?" He suggested, sparing her the task of having to say it herself.

"Yes," Although she knew that there was no other way, Sam still felt guilty. "I'm sorry."

"Do not be. It was selfish of me to put your people's lives at risk when I knew that my health was not as it should be."

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"Tretonin is no longer able to sustain my body as it once did," he said, his tone so calm that it was disconcerting, "it grows less and less effective with each passing month. I am too old to be accepted by a primta, even if one could be obtained, so without tretonin, I will die."

"When did this start?"

"Over a year ago," he chuckled wryly, "though at the time I blamed the troubles with Gerak."

"Have you spoken to Dr Brightman? Or Dr Lam?" Sam already knew that he hadn't; both doctors would have warned her if he was medically unfit for duty.

"I do not need to speak to a physician to be told what I already know to be true, Colonel Carter. A primta will reject a Jaffa it deems too old to sustain it, just as this old man's body is now rejecting tretonin."

"There must be something we can do! Maybe the Tok'ra will know something, or the Asgard…"

He shook his head. "I fear that there is no cure for old age," He patted her hand gently, "I have lived a long life, Colonel Carter, I was a warrior when your grandfathers were children and I commanded an army long before you were born." He sighed. "A time comes for all men to die, and this is mine." He smiled ruefully at her, "I apologize for deceiving you, but this old warrior just could not stomach the thought of dying in his bed."

* * *

"Colonel Carter, there's a transmission coming through for you," Captain Sherwin reported from the helm. "It's from the SGC."

"Patch it through to my office, Captain." Sam ordered, standing and making her way across the bridge to her office, sitting down and activating the console in front of her.

General Landry's face looked back at her, his expression relieved. "I was hoping that the _Athena_ would be in communications range, Colonel." He said by way of greeting.

"Sir?"

"I'm afraid that SG-1 may have managed to get themselves into a spot of trouble – I'm sure that you're shocked by the very thought," he added dryly, "they're on a mission to P7A-584, and they've missed their last two scheduled contacts. We've tried to dial P7A-584, but we haven't been able to get a lock. Given SG-1's uncanny knack for finding trouble, I would prefer that the situation be checked out sooner rather than later."

Sam checked the _Athena_'s position relative to P7A-584's on her computer. "They're not far from where we are, just a couple of hours away at full speed. Do you want us to collect them?"

Landry smiled slightly. "I was hoping you'd say that."

* * *

Well aware of the fact that wherever SG-1 happened to be, trouble was rarely very far away, the _Athena_'s commander ordered that they proceed to P7A-854 with all possible speed, arriving within two hours of General Landry's communication.

Once the _Athena_ was in orbit around the planet, Sam tapped a few controls on her console, wanting to radio them, but there was no signal. "Any sign of them down there?"

"Scanning the planet for locator beacons, ma'am," Dr Rivers reported, "I'm picking up five signals."

"Five?" The last Sam had heard, Mitchell had been having trouble choosing one new member, let alone two. "Beam them to the 'gate room." She ordered, starting to make her own way down there, with Ferretti and Kaímar following close behind her.

SG-1 arrived just seconds after she did, their faces flushed with exertion, with one of its members, a young man Sam didn't recognize, celebrating his arrival by vomiting copiously on the deck, his face as grey as an Asgard's. One of his teammates bent over to check on him, her dark hair obscuring her features.

"Another one bites the dust." Vala remarked cheerfully, stepping back to avoid getting splattered.

"Vala!" Mitchell scowled at her, glancing up at Sam as if he hoped that she might not have heard.

"At least he lasted longer than the last one."

"Jackson!" The SG-1 commander looked ready to deck someone.

The second new member glanced up at Vala. "Should I be worried, Mother?"

Seeing her face, Ferretti snatched a zat from one of the security officers and levelled it at her head, an example the other security officers were not slow in following. Kaímar didn't know what was behind their reaction, but he swiftly pushed Sam behind him, pointing his spear at Adria's throat, ready to strike if she moved a muscle.

"Whoa, whoa, down boys!" Vala stepped between Kaímar's spear and her daughter, "you must be Kaímar, right? Well, you can put down your toy, there's no danger here."

Sam stepped out from behind Kaímar, gesturing for everyone to lower their weapons. "It's alright."

"Ma'am…" Ferretti was, understandably, a bit bewildered by this. If the expression on his face was any indication, he was having a few doubts about his commanding officer's sanity.

Ignoring him, Vala put a hand on her daughter's shoulder and smiled at Sam, "Look who's woken up." Adria smiled shyly by way of greeting, clearly unnerved by all the attention focused on her.

Though she was curious about how the young woman, who had been in a coma when Sam had last seen her, had wound up on SG-1, Sam felt that those were questions that could be asked privately, preferably after the unwell member of the team had been brought to the infirmary so she contented herself with saying, "Welcome aboard."

The weapons were lowered one-by-one, Kaímar's monstrous spear last of all. Nobody took their eyes off of her.

* * *

"When did she wake up?"

"It would have been two weeks ago," Vala told her, "but the doctors kept her under until just last week, until the Asgard helped us confirm that she was fully human and not a scrap more. But she hasn't been completely without surprises for us, though."

"Oh?"

"It seems that with her powers gone, and the Ori no longer whispering in her ear, her mind isn't quite what it should be. She's not damaged," she said when she saw the curiosity on Sam's face. "But it seems that emotionally, she's more like a teenager than a fully adult woman."

"I suppose that's to be expected," Sam surmised. "The way they forced her growth, if not for all the whispering in her ear, she'd still be an infant."

"Well, it still wasn't easy to convince General Landry to let her work with us." Vala looked somewhat bashfully at Sam. "A few months ago, I would gladly have shot her and not had a moment of regret. Now, though… when she woke up, it was the first time I actually thought of her as my daughter, as opposed to some bloody thing, out to kill us all if she couldn't convert us. I couldn't just leave her on her own. Daniel and Colonel Mitchell agreed with me that she was no longer a threat, and together we were able to convince Landry that she might prove useful, _and_ that she might be willing to help if she were allowed to stick with me."

"So she's working with Mom, now."

"She's on probation at the moment, but yes." She made a face. "Daniel and Cam get up to too much mischief for any one person to be able to keep tabs on them. And I'd lay odds that Sergeant Hamilton will be begging the good general for a transfer as soon as he's back on Earth. It wasn't what I'd call one of our smoother missions – do _you_ remember what those feel like?"

Sam tried not to laugh at Vala's long-suffering tone and exaggerated grimaces but she was fighting a losing battle. Stifling her giggles, she paused outside the door of one of the guest quarters and passed her hand over the scanner, causing the door to slide back. "This is your room," she said, gesturing for Vala to precede her into the suite. "Bathroom's through here."

Vala eyed the large room appreciatively. "Definitely a step up from the SGC quarters," She said approvingly, "if I thought the boys could manage without supervision, I'd sign up tomorrow."

"Adria's next door," Sam continued, "and if there's anything you need, let me know."

"Will do." Vala agreed cheerfully. "Sam," she called quietly as the other woman turned to leave. Sam stopped, looking back. "Thanks… for everything."

"You're welcome."

* * *

"These quarters will be yours for the duration of your stay," Teal'c told his two former teammates gravely, opening the first of two doors, "This will be your room, Daniel Jackson."

"Great." He barely glanced inside, eager to check out the Ancient artefacts. "Could you show me where I can find Jonas' office?"

Teal'c had expected this request and called to a passing crewman with a request that he escort Daniel, who hastened away without hesitation. "This is to be your room, Colonel Mitchell," he told the other man once Daniel had left. "Colonel Carter has scheduled a briefing for the senior staff at 1600 and has asked that SG-1 be in attendance."

"We'll be there." Mitchell promised. "Listen, man, is there any chance that I can persuade you to come back and rejoin SG-1?"

"No." Teal'c stated flatly.

"Come on, you can't tell me that you don't miss it," Mitchell coaxed, "all the action and adventure, exploring strange new worlds. Being cooped up on a ship must be pretty boring after the excitement of being on SG-1 for ten years." He added, conveniently forgetting his own desire to join the crew of the _Athena_ and the multiple attempts he had made to be transferred there.

"I am not interested."

Seeing that he wasn't going to be able to sway his friend, Mitchell subsided, changing the subject.

Neither of them noticed Kaímar standing at the far end of the corridor or heard his low, angry growls.

TBC.


	13. Part XIII

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Stargate: SG-1 or any of the characters associated with it. If we did, Seasons Nine and Ten would be… different.

* * *

**Part XIII**

Mitchell was the first to reach the briefing room. A large oval table surrounded by chairs was the only furniture in the room, and a large display screen was set on one of the bulkheads.

He debated a second before choosing where to sit, opting for the chair at one end of the table, nearest the door. His ass had barely touched the seat when the door slid open and a huge hand seized the back of his collar, hauling him out of the chair and setting him roughly on his feet.

Kaímar bent down to eye level, scowling at him like a disapproving teacher. "That is not your chair." He spoke slowly, enunciating each word, as though to make sure that Mitchell would have no trouble understanding him. "That is Colonel Carter's chair. _You_ do not sit there."

"Right, okay…" Mitchell attempted a grin, moving towards another chair. Before he could sit there however, the massive Unas shook his head slowly and silently. "Ferretti's chair?" Mitchell asked worriedly, getting the barest of nods in response. He moved to the next, but before even attempting to sit, he looked back to Kaímar who merely glowered at him. "None of these chairs are mine, are they?"

"No."

Before he could ask where he _was _allowed to sit, the door opened to admit Ferretti, Jonas, and Vala. Ferretti and Jonas took their customary places, on either side of Sam's chair, oblivious to the heavy silence in the room, which was soon broken by Vala's cheerful enquiry.

"Where do I sit?"

Kaímar inclined his head, indicating a chair near the foot of the table. "That is yours."

"How come she gets…" A scowl cut Mitchell's complaint off before he could finish voicing it. He watched, open-mouthed, as the rest of the _Athena_'s senior staff filed into the room and took their places, with Sam, Teal'c and Daniel bringing up the rear and taking the last three seats. Adria arrived a few moments later.

Seeing that there were no empty seats, Felger leapt to his feet, politely holding his chair out for her.

"Thank you." She smiled in response to his chivalrous offer, sitting down.

Sam glanced up, looking at Mitchell's expression and at Kaímar, who looked as innocent as a nine foot tall reptile could possibly look. "Everything okay, Cam?"

"Fine." He moved to the other end of the table, standing to one side.

"Uh, Cam…" Sam motioned for him to step to one side. "Could you move a little? You're blocking the display screen."

"Sorry… ma'am." He tacked on belatedly, seeing Kaímar frown and remembering that she outranked him. Daniel was barely able to conceal his amusement at his teammate's expression and Vala didn't even bother trying to hide her snickering.

Sam was slightly taken aback but she decided against questioning him. "The _Athena_ is due to return to Earth for a debriefing, we should be there within three days. I contacted General Landry and told him that it would be possible for us to send you back to the SGC by stargate…"

"Sam!" Daniel looked betrayed.

"…but he agreed to my suggestion that you stay onboard until we get back to Earth." She finished, smiling at the obvious delight both Daniel and Mitchell showed at her words.

Daniel beamed at her. "Any chance I can get a look at your Ancient database while I'm here?" He asked hopefully.

"I'm sure that can be arranged." She told him. "Jonas is in charge of that department, ask him. I'm sure that he'll be willing to set you up on one of the computers."

"I'd be happy to, Dr Jackson." Jonas confirmed.

"Now maybe he'll stop whining about not being allowed to join your crew all the time." Vala said, ignoring Daniel's glare. She indicated Mitchell with a nod of her head. "And he's worse. I don't know how you put up with them for so long."

"If we could continue," Sam cut in before an argument could develop. She glanced down at the data pad in front of her. "There don't seem to be any new inhabited planets along our present course, so there won't be any offworld missions. Once we return to Earth and the debriefing is complete, it will be a week before we take off on our next mission. It will give the crew some time at home."

"I'm sure they'll all be glad to hear that." Ferretti said.

"In the meantime, I know that Sergeant Hayden in Engineering has some minor repairs he wants to complete – does anybody else have anything they need to work on?"

"There are some writings from PD6-549 that I need to translate." Jonas said. "Perhaps you'd like to help me, Dr Jackson?" He asked politely, receiving an eager nod in return.

"Any chance I could take one of the F-303s out for a spin?" Mitchell asked, a hopeful, almost pleading expression on his face.

"They're not for joyriding, Cam."

"Colonel Carter?" Felger piped up. "Speaking of the F-303s, I have a project of my own in mind." He moved to the top of the table, all but thrusting a data pad at her.

Sam accepted the pad, scrolling through his notes before looking up at him with a smile. "Jay, this is excellent work."

"Thank you." He was glowing with pleasure at her praise. "I thought that it would be useful for us in combat."

"I think you're right about that." Sam handed his back his pad, motioning towards the display screen. "Can you show your plans on that?"

"Yes, ma'am." He tapped the controls on the display screen, slotting his data pad into one of the ports. A few seconds later a blueprint materialized on the screen.

"Is that…"

"Yes!" Felger answered Mitchell's question before he could give it voice. "I got the idea when I was studying the F-303s."

"You were actually _working_?" Ferretti's disbelief was plain.

Felger was either gracious enough not to rub his face in it or too excited to hear what he was saying. "The rail gun turrets we have on the ship are obviously way too big for an F-303, but we should be able to install my modified design – it's a lot smaller and lighter, plus it should be more manoeuvrable."

"Looks good, Jay." Sam told him warmly.

"The design is finished and it shouldn't take long to build a prototype." Felger told her eagerly. "I could be finished in three days or so."

"You can use whatever resources and personnel you need." She glanced around the table at the others. "Has anybody else got anything they want to bring up?" Her query was met with a chorus of 'No's. "Dismissed."

* * *

General Hammond had once described his projects as long on promises and short on results, but Felger was determined that that was not going to be the case this time.

Unlike most of his previous superiors, Colonel Carter actually believed in him and he had no intention of letting her down.

"Your design is amazing, Jay." Hailey told him kindly. Having checked the blueprints thoroughly, she could say this without any hesitation. "It's a great idea – the pilots are all going to be happy with your improvements."

"I hope so."

"They will." She said firmly.

"So, I think that we should split into two groups, one group to adapt the design and another to wire the interface with the F-303 and install the controls – what do you think?"

"Sounds good to me." Felger was silent for a moment, clearly waiting for her to start giving orders to the scientists and engineers assigned to the project. "This is your project." She reminded him. "You're the boss."

He grinned briefly before turning to the group awaiting his instructions. "Alright, everybody," while his voice started out a little shaky, it quickly steadied and he spoke with more confidence. "Here's what we're going to do…"

* * *

After forty-one hours – including just over four spent running checks on every single interface and command subroutine to make sure that there had been no possible mistake – Felger marched through the corridors of the _Athena _to the bridge and from there through to Colonel Carter's office just behind, his report tucked under one arm.

Briefly reflecting that General O'Neill's suggestion of 'ready room' would have been a better name for it, he knocked with a steady hand. Within, a voice called for him to enter and the door glided back to allow him entry.

Kaímar, standing sentry just behind Colonel Carter, gave him a brief smile of welcome before returning his attention to Mitchell, who was pleading with her for something.

"Come on, please." The other man was saying coaxingly. "Who knows when I'll be on your ship again? I might never get another chance to take one out."

"Cam…" She shook her head before smiling up at Felger. "What is it, Jay?"

He fumbled with his report a moment before handing it to her. "We're finished, ma'am."

"Already? Well done." She praised him warmly, reading over the report. "It looks like everything is in order here."

"The prototype's ready whenever you want to see it." He said, with all the eagerness of a young child longing to show off a new toy or a carefully crafted Art project. "It's in the hangar bay."

Sam stood. "I've been looking forward to seeing this." She told Felger, motioning for him to lead the way. "Excuse me, Cam."

As always, Kaímar followed her and Mitchell wasn't about to miss any opportunity to visit the F-303 hangar.

The F-303 installed with the prototype was in the centre of the hangar bay, ready for flight, with Felger's team, at least a dozen of the pilots and several others were milling around, examining the miniature rail gun turret. Mitchell immediately ran to inspect it.

"Very impressive, Jay." Sam said, patting his shoulder.

"Thanks." He beamed.

"You've definitely done some great work." Ferretti praised. "I wish you'd told me what you had in mind." He said wryly, remembering the number of times he had chased the other man away from the hangar bay. He glanced around at the pilots examining the new addition to the flyer before addressing Sam. "Colonel, I don't envy you the task of deciding who gets to go on the test flight. They all want to do it."

"Well, I think that you definitely have to go along, Jay." Sam told Felger.

He gaped at her, astonished, and quite pale. "Me?"

"You." She confirmed.

Mitchell joined them. "You've got to let me take out one of those F-303s." He pleaded for the umpteenth time. "I've been wanting to try one out for months, you know that."

"Cam…" Sam was ready to refuse, but she rethought her response, knowing that she would get no peace until she allowed it. "Jay, if it's alright with you, maybe Colonel Mitchell could be your pilot for the test flight." She suggested.

"Well, I was kind of hoping that …" Felger started to protest before trailing off.

"I'd really appreciate it if you'd let Colonel Mitchell tag along." Sam said. "He's a good pilot, you'll be in safe hands."

Felger would never have been able to refuse a request of hers. "Okay."

Mitchell's delighted whoop almost deafened him.

TBC.

_Authors' Note: Next stop: Earth. In the meantime, please review._


	14. Part XIV

**Disclaimer: **We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Season Nine would have been... different.

* * *

**Part XIV**

The cabin was in a surprisingly good state of repair, considering how long ago his grandfather had sat at the edge of this very pond, and the fact that Jack had never performed any maintenance on the place, as he was certain his father hadn't.

_All they did was catch all the damn fish,_ he complained to himself.

A single mackerel broke the surface, arcing three above the water before landing with a low plop and disappearing. _Tease_, Jack projected.

"So do you _ever_ go to work anymore? Or do you just sit here every day trying to catch that fish?" Sam sat down on the extra deck chair that had been left out in case she dropped by.

"Mack and I have an understanding," he grumped unconvincingly. "Besides, I'm on vacation."

"You wrapped up your last vacation just a few weeks ago."

"That wasn't actually a vacation, remember?" He popped the lid on a beer and handed it to her. "I was evaluating you for the final okay on your command."

"Right." After taking a small sip of her beer, Sam picked up the other rod that had also been left in preparation for her arrival.

Turning towards her, he studied her face for a few moments before speaking. "Do we need to have 'the Talk'?"

Looking at her former CO curiously, she told him, "I don't think that'll be necessary. My dad gave me the talk when I was fifteen. I'm pretty sure I understood most of it the first time."

"Funny!" He raised an eyebrow. "Fifteen?"

She shrugged. "He was shy."

"Fair enough," he acknowledged, "and I meant the talk about how none of this is your fault and things would probably have played out the same way regardless of what you did or didn't do."

Sam shook her head slightly. "I'm okay. I had plenty of time to think about it on the way home." His response of "Oh" made her eye him again. "You seem almost disappointed."

He grinned ruefully, "I spent hours working on my speech. Had it all prepared."

He reeled in his line and began replacing the bait that had been swiped. "Felger called. He tried to catch up with you at the SGC, something about materials for the '303 improvements, and some other stuff. He was babbling, so I just went and okayed everything for you."

"Well, his idea for miniaturising the rail gun seems to be a pretty good one so far. We tested in a practice assault run against automated drones. Looks like missiles just took the back seat as far as fighter weapons go."

"Yeah, I'll admit, the guy actually has his moments," Jack grudgingly allowed. "Not many, but he has 'em. Anyway, he said that with all that needs to be done, the stopover might have to be extended. Three weeks, a month at the outside," he told her before she could ask.

Sam was silent for a moment. Then - "I guess that's a good thing. I probably would have had to ask for more time, anyway, with putting the rest of the crew together, and trying to figure out what to do with Teal'c and Bra'tac. Jonas needs to choose people for his department too."

"Better not tell Daniel about that."

After another brief silence she added "I've got the debrief with the General Landry and Woolsey tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, I got the memo. I'll be there for that one too. I wouldn't worry about it. They'll just wanna know about the new bad guys - assuming they're actually bad guys, and it wasn't all just a huge misunderstanding. They might be a little curious about your new apprentice, too."

"Well, some good news there. He's finally begun sleeping in his own room."

"You sound like a mother with a toddler," he joked.

Sam almost choked on her beer. "Yeah, but they grow up so fast."

Jack hesitated before bringing up the next topic. "How are things with Bra'tac and Teal'c?"

"I'm not sure," she sighed. "The moment we landed, Bra'tac went to the SGC infirmary - that took some convincing, but not nearly as much as it took just to get Teal'c to talk about it."

"You plan on keeping either of them on-board when you ship out again?"

"Do you think I should?"

"Not my choice." The tone of the conversation had changed somewhat. It had gone from two friends chatting to a CO and his officer discussing a potential problem in her command. "It's your ship. You're the one who has to work with them. And trust them." His expression became sour. "Personally, I'd like to strap Teal'c to the wing of a '303 and take him for a joyride. I would've thought that after ten years, he might have outgrown the whole Jaffa pride thing."

"Well, I'm still not sure what I'm going to do. If I'm keeping them on-board - and I can't separate them; I doubt Teal'c would leave Bra'tac behind in his condition - there's no way Bra'tac can lead a team. He'd be pretty much ship-bound."

"He'd probably like that better than being confined to the SGC, or stuck at home on Dakara," Jack pointed out. "There might still be _some _useful position he can fill on the ship, if he doesn't just want to wait around and die."

"The real problem is Teal'c," Sam continued. "I thought he trusted me enough to be honest with me. Bra'tac I can almost understand. With everything he's done, and as long as he's been around, finding out he's going to die like a sick old man would be pretty high up on his list of worst fears."

"Not a call I'd like to have to make. But it's gotta be made." Jack swallowed another mouthful of his beer, and began reeling in his line again, to find the bait gone yet again._ Son of a bitch!_ "The good news is, you have some time to think about it."

Sam exhaled slowly, clearly not thinking that having more time to think about what to do would make the decision any easier. Any regular crewman would be gone without a second thought for something like this. But this was Teal'c. "I think it'd be easier if I had to decide right this minute," she told him. "I just want to get past this and move the hell on."

She was somewhat surprised at the touch on her hand. "It's never easy," he told her. "Whatever you decide, it's the right decision. Don't let anybody call you on it. Ever."

* * *

_**Next Day. SGC Briefing Room.**_

Richard Woolsey, as liaison the International Oversight Authority and a well-known stick in the mud, had been Sam's biggest worry. The _Athena_ was an SGC asset, and General Hank Landry was the most senior officer responsible for her, but despite the IOA having no direct authority over Sam or her ship, she knew that if they

wanted to influence a change in _Athena'_s orders or her command structure, they had the political power to enforce such a change.

Woolsey's actual attitude to the events that had occured upon the ship's first foray into a new galaxy had been a bit of a surprise to everyone in the room.

"And Lieutenant Bryant is expected to make a full recovery?"

"At this point we're not sure," Sam told him. "The doctors are confident about him keeping his arm, but they're concerned about functionality."

"I see." Woolsey scribbled a brief note in his pad. "Now, when do you imagine you'll be prepared to set out again?"

Sam couldn't prevent a slight double-take at this. Beside her, Jack shifted slightly in his chair. It seemed even he had harboured some doubt as to Woolsey's take on what had happened. "I don't have an exact date yet. I have some more crew members to decide on, and Professor Felger has quite a lot of materials to gather to retrofit all our gliders with the new model rail guns."

"Actually, ma'am, I've had another idea for the F-303s," Felger put in at this. "I didn't have a chance to suggest this to you yesterday, but if I may?" Sam nodded her approval, as did everybody else at the table, and Felger produced copies of a thin folder. The sketches within were somewhat rough - clearly he'd thrown this together in a hurry to make sure he could put this new idea into effect before they took off again. "I've been considering some modifications to the wing-span and design to the gliders, allowing the wings to be retracted slightly, and also to fold upwards here," he indicated one of the drawings, "to allow the F-303s to pass through a stargate, much like the puddle-jumpers on Atlantis."

Sam was amazed at this development following his other idea for the railguns. Woolsey was clearly intrigued, as was Landry, and even Jack breathed a low "Nice!"

"How long will it take you to work out the finer details?" Sam asked.

"About a week," a flushed Felger replied, delighted by the unanimous approval. "Gathering the required materials will take a little longer. Overall, a month at the most."

"This is well worth any delay," Landry allowed. "Especially considering how the first trip to the Antlia galaxy went. Take as long as you need. Anything else?" The only response was a chorus of head-shaking. "Very well. As far as these new players are concerned, I'm sure I don't need to tell you this, but we don't know enough about them to class them as an enemy just yet. Find out what you can about them, but don't go looking for a fight just yet."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

Outside, Teal'c and Captain Grey stood waiting in case they had been called in to speak. Neither had been, as the reports from Bra'tac's team on the attack had been sufficient to answer any questions, and Landry had agreed with Jack and Sam about keeping the Jaffa Master's illness - and Teal'c's part in covering it up - secret from the IOA.

Jack spoke briefly to Sam and Landry about the afternoon arrangements, and Sam contacted the _Athena'_s bridge and asked to be beamed up to her office. Jack then turned to Landry, asked him if he could borrow his office, then gestured for Teal'c to follow.

"Shut the door," he said over his shoulder as the larger man entered. Half-standing, half-sitting on the desk, he regarded his friend silently for a moment, gathered himself, and decided to launch right into it. "I think we probably should've had a chat about Jaffa pride a long time ago," he began in an almost casual tone, "and to tell you the truth, I really wish that we had."

"To what are you referring, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked stiffly.

"Don't," Jack warned. "You didn't just cover for him, and _that_ would have been bad enough. You recommended him to lead an offworld team!"

"Master Bra'tac wished..."

"I don't give a rat's ass what Master Bra'tac wished!" Jack shouted, not noticing Ferretti outside. Ferretti, for his part, had not been briefed on exactly what had happened with Bra'tac, his situation being a medical one, and therefore subject to a certain level of confidentiality, even in the military. "He's allowed to keep his own secrets, to a point. And he could at least use the excuse of not being all that familiar with our rules. You've been working with us for over ten years!"

Pausing for a second to calm down a little, he noticed Ferretti. _Crap._ They'd have to tell him now. It wasn't a big problem, and Ferretti wouldn't question whatever Sam decided about Teal'c and Bra'tac, but he had hoped to keep this one in the family. Quieter now, he continued. "Your recommendation left him in charge of three young officers, none of whom have seen much combat, despite their pretty impressive service records so far. Now, what happened down there was nobody's fault, we've all agreed on that. But if something had happened to Bra'tac, and he'd gotten any of those kids killed, it would've been Carter's ass on the line.

"She's responsible for everyone and everything on that ship. Her crew start lying to her -" he raised a hand to cut off Teal'c's protest. "You did lie to her. You endangered her crew, and if anything had come as a result of that, she would've been the one to pay." He could feel himself heating up again, but continued calmly. "She hasn't made a decision yet about whether or not to keep you on-board. For the record, I won't be speaking for you. In her place, I'd leave you behind."

Teal'c dropped his eyes slightly at this. "It was not my intention to undermine Colonel Carter's command."

"But you knew that was what you were doing, and you did it anyway." Jack wasn't sure he'd ever been so disappointed in a friend before this. "T," he said, catching the Jaffa's eye again, "for pretty much your whole tenure on SG-1, you were like her honorary big brother. But she's your commanding officer now. You can't treat her like a kid sister. She may still decide to let you stay on the ship when they head out again, but if you ever screw her over like this again, I'll go out there and drag your ass back here myself." His tone left no question of this being an idle threat.

He sighed. "I trusted you. So did she."

TBC.


	15. Part XV

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Season Nine would have been... different.

**Authors' Note:** Coming soon – a companion piece to 'Stargate: Athena', 'What Felger Did Next', the further adventures of our favourite bumbling scientist.

* * *

**Part XV **

**_Three weeks later_**

The gigantic hangar bay at the Delta Site had been temporarily loaned to the Athena's science and engineering teams, along with all of their personnel with engineering or technological qualifications and was a hive of activity as they all worked on their project.

Their first prototype had been a resounding success and they were hard at work implementing the changes to the other F-303s.

One might have expected Felger to be overjoyed at how smoothly this project – his second great success in the past month – was progressing but over the past weeks, his staff had noticed that he was becoming increasingly distracted, often spending time talking to himself, muttering something under his breath over and over again.

Although they were aware that he had his eccentricities, this behaviour was out of character, even for him and, while she had thought at first that he was simply feeling stressed over the project and let it be, Hailey was becoming increasingly concerned.

Felger was sitting in front of a cluttered desk in a small office adjoining the hangar bay, scribbling something on a piece of paper. He read over what he had written, frowned unhappily then balled it up and tossed it away.

The Athena was due to leave Earth for the Antlia galaxy at the end of the week.

If he didn't hurry, he was going to be too late.

"I know that we don't know each other very well yet but I'd like to change that… no, that sounds stupid! I think you're really great and…"

"Jay?"

Felger yelped, startled by the interruption, scattering papers everywhere. "No!" He cried when Hailey bent down to help him gather them. "I mean, it's okay, I can take care of it."

"Is everything okay, Jay? You seem distracted… more so than usual, anyway." She teased lightly.

"Fine." He squeaked. "Everything's fine. Why wouldn't it be? I'm fine, you're fine, the project's fine, everything's great."

"Are you sure?" She pressed gently, not believing his assurances for one moment.

"Of course." He insisted unconvincingly. The silence stretched between them for a few moments before he spoke again. "Could you check on Sergeant Hamilton? Make sure that he's got the retracting mechanism exactly right."

As Hamilton was one of the most careful, accurate technicians either of them had ever worked with, this was completely unnecessary but Hailey knew a dismissal when she heard it.

"Of course."

"Thanks." She was halfway out the door before he spoke again. "Jennifer?" She stopped, turned around. Steeling himself, Felger continued. "Can I ask you something?"

* * *

_**Earth, Five days later**_

The air was thick with smoke as Jack presided over the barbecue, ignoring all suggestions that he allow somebody else to take over as chef.

It was his house, after all. He got to cremate the meat.

The impromptu celebration to mark the Athena's departure had been his idea, though he had given in to her commander's pleas that he not invite the whole crew and contented himself with the senior staff and SG-1.

Generals Hammond and Landry had decided against attending, pleading urgent work and worried that their presence would prevent the other guests from relaxing and enjoying the evening.

Kaímar had also had to absent himself from the celebrations, for fear of giving Jack's neighbours heart attacks.

"Don't worry, though," Jack told Sam cheerfully, dousing a charred burger with beer before flipping it over, "I'll send his share back to the ship for him."

"Thanks, sir, but he can be a bit fussy about his food." She responded with a perfectly straight face.

"He's an Unas, for cryin' out loud! Don't they eat raw meat?"

"Raw, yes. Burned, no."

He scowled, brandishing his spatula threateningly. "Watch it, Colonel. You don't want me to confiscate your F-303s do you? I'm sure they'd love to have them on the Odyssey? Or maybe on the Apollo?"

"You wouldn't." Her response was tranquil.

Knowing she was right, Jack contented himself with a frown before picking up one of the plates, selecting the least burnt of the burgers and dishing it out. He passed it to Sam. "Here you go, Carter, help yourself to toppings."

"Thanks."

"Who's next?" Jack called, scooping up one of the burgers on his spatula and looking around for volunteers.

Ferretti approached, plate in hand, examining the burger with a practiced eye. "You're getting better at this, Jack." He announced cheerfully. "I think I can actually see an unburned bit."

"Do you want to do the cooking?"

"Sure."

Somewhat taken aback by his friend's readiness to usurp his role as chef, Jack took a moment to answer. "Well you can't!"

Ferretti merely grinned, snagging the bottle of ketchup and generously anointing his burger before helping himself to salad and digging in.

Jack continued to dish out food, tuning out any critiques of his barbequing technique. "Where's Felger?" He asked once everyone had been served, noticing the other man's absence for the first time. "I definitely invited him." He insisted, seeing the slightly sceptical look on Ferretti's face.

"He's on a date." Everyone turned to stare at the speaker.

"And how would you know that?" Jack, characteristically, was the first to speak.

Vala scowled darkly. "He's on a date with my daughter!"

"Seriously…"

"I'm serious." Vala cut Jack off. "He picked her up an hour ago."

Although Sam was delighted to hear that her rather reclusive chief scientist was socializing, she was far too intelligent to express that pleasure in front of a clearly ticked-off Vala.

"I wouldn't worry too much," Jack began comfortingly, guessing that a kid's first date would be a daunting prospect for any parent, let alone taking Adria's admittedly unusual circumstances into account, "Adria can take care of herself and anyway, this is Felger we're talking about. Her virtue is safer with him than it would be if you locked her away in a convent."

"A girl's virtue isn't as safe in a convent as you might think."

Jack grimaced. "Do I want to know how you know that?"

"Probably not. Anyway, it's not her virtue I'm worried about."

"I'd be more worried about his virtue." Ferretti's attempt at lightening the mood was met with a frown from Vala and chuckles from everybody else.

"So what's the problem?" Sam asked gently, seeing that Vala was genuinely upset. "Jay really is a nice guy."

Vala looked at her as though she doubted her sanity. "He's on a date," she said very slowly, "with my daughter. I'm barely old enough to be a mother." Fortunately, she didn't hear Jack or Ferretti's snorts of laughter. "I don't want to be anybody's mother-in-law!"

"I think you may be overreacting." Sam said as diplomatically as she could. "It's just their first date."

"Yeah," Ferretti chimed in helpfully, "it'll be at least a year before he plucks up the courage to even hold her hand. Maybe longer."

Vala looked ready to kiss him. "Really?"

He nodded. "It's pretty much a guarantee."

* * *

_**Evening**_

With so many people enthusiastically volunteering to help, the task of clearing up after the barbeque had been a short one. Jack didn't think that his house or backyard had ever been quite so orderly.

As the evening was a warm one, he and Sam elected to stay out on the deck as they enjoyed a glass of wine and the last of the cake Jack had bought for the impromptu party.

"It's going to be pretty quiet around here once you've headed back to Antlia." Jack remarked.

"We should be back in another few months," Sam responded, "the engineers on the Athena think that it's better if she doesn't make any longer runs yet, not until the engine has been broken in more."

"That's good to know. By the way," he advised, "you'd better keep an eye open for stowaways. I have it on good authority that Daniel is planning on sneaking onboard, hidden inside one of Felger's suitcases. No giggling," he warned sombrely, "I'm serious."

"If I find him, I'll send him back by stargate." Sam promised.

"Have you finished picking out your new crew?"

She nodded. "All of them; Dr Weir's agreed to let me borrow a few of her officers to lead the teams until some of our own people can be trained in for the jobs. Some of the teams will have to be reshuffled in the meantime." Her expression became serious. "Dr Brightman and Dr Warner tell me that they've done all they can for Lieutenant Bryant. He's going to need a lot of rehabilitation to regain full use of his arm."

"How is he doing other than that?"

"Good." She smiled slightly. "He wants to get to work on rehab so he can come back to Athena."

"That's good."

A companionable silence stretched between them for a few minutes before Jack brought up the topic they had studiously avoided over the past few weeks; he because he didn't want to prejudice her decision and she because the topic had been so far from pleasant for her.

"Have you decided what you're going to do about Teal'c?" He asked, knowing that Bra'tac would end up staying with his former pupil, whatever she decided to do. She nodded. "And?"

"I'm going to let him stay onboard."

He smiled slightly. "I figured that you would."

"You don't think I should?"

"It doesn't matter what I think, remember?" He reminded her gently. "It's your ship, your crew and your call. If you can still trust Teal'c and work with him, good for you."

"I trust him." She confirmed. "I don't agree with him keeping Bra'tac's secret but I understand why he did and I don't think he'll do something like that again."

Jack simply nodded grimly. "He'd better not."

* * *

_**Two Days Later**_

Although Sam had been surprised at first when General Hammond, along with General Landry had travelled to the Delta Site to see the Athena off, both men's eagerness to tour the ship, of which they had only seen a small part when they visited for her promotion ceremony, quickly shed light on their motives for making the trip.

Accompanied by Jack, she beamed into her office, where they were waiting.

Jack nodded gravely in Hammond's direction. "General."

Hammond nodded in return. "General."

Then looking in Landry's direction, Jack nodded again. "General."

Landry grinned in response. "General," then turned to Hammond. Before he could speak again however -

"Generals!" Sam cut in. Kaímar had appeared in the doorway and was looking as though he was entertaining serious doubts over the sanity – or lack thereof – of the three men. "Act your ranks."

As soon as she had spoken, she wished she was able to take back her automatic admonition but she needn't have worried; all three men broke into surprised grins, while both Jack and Hammond snapped to attention and chorused a very amused -

"Yes, Colonel."

"I'd like to go on record as saying this is all your fault," Landry told his compatriots in a serious tone, slightly offset by the grin he couldn't quite lose. "You spoil her."

Hammond shrugged his shoulders. "She's my god-daughter," he offered.

Jack shifted uncomfortably. "She's Carter!" he pointed out, no other explanation required.

Considering for a moment, Landry shook his head slightly. "Fair enough."

The panel on the wall behind Sam's desk beeped twice. "This is Carter."

Ferretti's voice replied, "We're ready to go, Colonel."

"That's our cue." Landry smiled and nodded. "Speak to you again soon," and he exited, making his way to the transporter room.

Stepping forward, Hammond wrapped his large arms around Sam, hugging her warmly. "Good luck out there," he whispered.

"I'll be fine," Sam told him, returning the hug.

"Yes, you will," Jack told her once Hammond was gone. He seemed slightly tense, the same feeling Sam often got whenever they found themselves alone in a room together.

Even during the past month of staying in his guest room – her own house being leased out, seeing as she wasn't likely to be Earthside for any more than a couple of months in a year – the tension hadn't quite faded altogether.

Jack moved forward tentatively, leaned forward and left the barest hint of a kiss on her cheek, then hugged her tightly. "Keep in touch."

"You too."

* * *

_**Ten Days Later**_

_**Athena Briefing Room**_

"Okay, guys, for those of you who don't know him, this is Major Kavan Lorne. He's on loan to us from Atlantis to lead _Athena-2._" This brought a few quiet greetings and nods from around the table. Sam noticed that Bra'tac kept his eyes firmly fixed on the table in front of him.

"As for the new team rosters, Teal'c, you'll be on team-2. Lieutenant Tierney will be moving from team-3 to team-1, replaced on -3 by Rak'nor." She turned to Lorne. "We're taking orbit of a planet in about thirty minutes. We passed it before. It's uninhabited, but there's a gate on the surface. Maybe we'll check it out at some point and see what happened to the locals, but for now it's a good place to settle. If we run into trouble, we have the gate on the surface in case we need it. We can't use ours when the shields are up," she explained.

"What do we figure the chances are of running into trouble anytime soon?" Lorne asked.

"Hopefully pretty slim. It's a big galaxy, but then again, these guys showed up on the first place we sent a team to." Realising this wasn't the most comforting suggestion, she moved on. "Our orders are not to seek them out. If they – or any other possible hostiles – find us, we're to do what we can to avoid a fight, and try to find out what we can about them. I'm willing to bet most of the people in Antlia have had some experience with them, so they should be able to help us there. Until then, we simply don't know enough about what happened before, either on the planet or with the _Prometheus_, to class them as an enemy."

Everybody simply nodded to this. Everybody at the table had had enough of unknown quantities to hate the idea of not knowing whether somebody wanted them dead or not.

"We've picked out a number of probable sites for exploration. After MALP testing to ensure viability, we'll be launching _Athena-2 _& _-3_. Again, just trying to meet the natives, find out what we can about our friends in the large ships or any other local power structures." Looking around the table, she asked, "Anything else anybody wants to bring up?" After a moment's silence, Sam stood. "Okay. Teams -2 and -3 prep for your missions, you both leave in ninety minutes. Dismissed."

As everyone else stood to leave, Sam tapped Bra'tac on the shoulder and asked him to wait. She waited until everybody else was gone before saying anything else.

Sam had had plenty of time to think about how to ask him about this. She knew that while he would hate having nothing to do, he would likely see any offer made to him as charity or pity, and reject such offers out of hand. Given that, she decided to try a different tack. "How are you feeling?"

"I am well," he replied defensively. "The doctors on Earth said that my illness would progress rather slowly, and that it would not often be apparent."

"That's good to know. I've got a job for you, if you're up for it." She almost allowed herself a small smile when the old man bristled at this, but continued. "I know you're still training the Jaffa you brought on board with you. I was hoping you'd be willing to take on some more pupils. Just the one for now, really, but at some point I'd like to have as many of my people as possible train in Jaffa combat techniques."

He considered for a moment before nodding his approval. "Who did you have in mind as the first new pupil?"

"Kaímar."

This gave Bra'tac some pause. "He seems apprehensive of Jaffa, perhaps due to the history of his people under Goa'uld dominance. I am unsure how willing he will be to train with me."

"I'll make sure he does."

"Very well."

Sam nodded and told him he could go. As he reached the door, he stopped and turned.

"Thank you, Colonel Carter."

**TBC**


	16. Part XVI

Disclaimer: We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Season Nine would have been... different.

* * *

**Part XVI**

Sam was sitting on the bridge when the ship appeared. Dropping out of hyperspace not far from the planet, it instantly altered course towards _Athena_.

"Dr. Rivers…" Her orders were carried out almost before she could give them. Shields and cloak were raised, and the _Athena_ broke orbit and moved away from the planet slightly.

Sam spoke over the PA system, working hard to keep her voice steady. "Attention all, personnel, this is Colonel Carter. A ship of the same configuration as we previously encountered has dropped out of hyperspace nearby and detected us. At present we are cloaked, but I want all F-303 pilots and gunners to begin launch preparations. All hands, ensure that any equipment is secured, and shut down all non-essential operations."

She had only just finished her announcement when it started. The enemy ship began launching a series of missiles in seemingly random directions in the area it had spotted _Athena_. Many of the warheads detonated right where the ship would have been had they maintained orbital course, and Sam was somewhat surprised at the effect. The actual explosions were quite small, but what struck Sam – and, it seemed, Dr. Rivers – as strange was a small, strange vibration the bridge crew all noticed.

"Those wouldn't barely have registered if they'd hit the shields," Ferretti noted.

"I don't think those are meant to blow us up," Dr Rivers told him.

"Then what?"

"Depth charges," Sam supplied. "Any of them get close enough to the shields, they'll be able to detect the resonance and get a bead on us."

The second wave expanded the search grid; this time, a few of the charges came straight towards _Athena_. "Evasive manoeuvres," Sam ordered quietly. The charges moved slowly enough that the handful approaching could be easily avoided.

"How long do you figure before they get bored?" Ferretti asked, his voice low.

"I don't know, but we have a team due to return to the planet in three hours. If they're spotted before we can beam them up, this could get messy."

"Recommend we move to the other side of the planet, ma'am?," Captain Sherwin suggested. "Let them shoot at nothing for a while, maybe they'll figure we snuck away."

Sam thought about it, but shook her head. "If anyone gets back to the planet early, I want to be in transport range of the Stargate." _Athena_'s own gate could not operate while the shields were raised, so anyone returning from a mission would wind up on the planet's surface when they gated through.

The bridge crew were beginning to get a fair handle on the enemy ship's deployment routine with the depth charges when it abruptly changed. A burst that they had expected to pass over a kilometre starboard instead came quite closely on the other side, and was narrowly avoided. It was clear the massive ship was in no short supply of charges.

After almost thirty minutes, a burst of charges came straight at _Athena_. The crew had seen enough to know that this wide dispersal would be unavoidable. While Sam ordered that all rail guns that had an angle of attack begin firing as soon as the cloak was dropped, Ferretti contacted the '303 bay, instructing all pilots to arm weapons and hold for launch.

The cloak was dropped the moment the first charge impacted the shields, causing no damage but clearly alerting the enemy ship to their presence. Not a second later, concurrent with _Athena_'s rail guns opening fire, three large warheads were launched. Dr. Rivers noted detected locks, on the Bridge, Engineering, and the ship's central section containing the Gate Room and the F-303 bays.

"Lock onto the warheads and fire," Sam commanded, at the same time Ferretti ordered all gliders to launch. The lead '303, piloted by Major Jeff Tomlinson – 'Major Tom' to his fellow pilots - immediately targeted the warhead making it's way towards the centre of the ship. It seemed to have a shield of its own, but that didn't last long. The first few bolts from the glider's miniature rail gun were stopped, and the warhead began manoeuvring to avoid the shots, but a second blast from the glider immediately to Tomlinson's right broke through, and the weapon was destroyed before it could reach its target.

They weren't quite as lucky with the remaining warheads. The first was destroyed within thirty metres of the shield above the bridge. The brunt of the explosion was avoided, but what little of the impact that was felt had one or two members of the bridge crew cringing slightly. The last missile dodged most of the fire direct at it, and the shield protected it against the one or two hits it did take. The shockwave translated from Engineering throughout the entire ship.

"Shields?" Sam asked.

"Ninety-six per cent." That surprised Sam somewhat. She remembered these same weapons decimating the _Prometheus'_ shields in pretty short order.

Sam relayed co-ordinates to weapons control for what she imagined from her studies of scans from the both the _Prometheus _incident and the more recent encounter was the bridge of the attacking vessel. "Concentrate fire from two forward rail guns here," she ordered, "and keep the other two in reserve for dealing with more warheads." Not knowing enough about the other ship, there was little in the way of a tactical firing solution available – she had no idea whether or not their weapons would even have any effect.

Major Tom, meanwhile, could be heard over the Comm. system giving similar orders to his pilots. The squad of twelve fighters broke into pre-arranged groups of three. "We'll target the ship. Green Team, deal with the enemy missiles," he added as five more missiles were seen launching. Red Team was held in reserve, ordered to hang back in case their aggressors produced another method of attack. Tomlinson led his own Blue Team toward the enemy, peppering their shields with a barrage of rail gun bolts.

The response from the ship was a series of ports opening to reveal rows of cannons. The ammunition was bolts of bluish energy fired at high speed. The actual rate of fire was slow, and these weapons could not, it seemed, track their targets the way missiles did. "Evasive manoeuvres," Tomlinson told his team. "Pull back to four kilometres and continue assault." At this distance, they could easily weave around the cannon-fire and maintain their hale of bolts on the ship, hopefully, Tomlinson told himself, having no small effect on the shields.

On the _Athena_ bridge, Sam studied identical sensor readings to those on Dr. Rivers' screen, hoping for some sign that their attack was having a tangible effect. They had to end this before the first of the away-teams returned, or any of her people arriving on the surface risked being plucked away by the bad guys before her people could beam them up.

Three more of the large warheads had made it past their defences, but thankfully had produced little effect. Shields had only dropped to eighty-seven per cent. On the other hand, they couldn't yet tell if their own weapons were having _any_ effect on the enemy.

A series of new blips appeared on her screen. "Ferretti, you see that?"

"Yes, ma'am. Flight Leader, _Athena First. _Ziggy, you got enemy fighters emerging from the ship's undercarriage. Reading two dozen."

"Roger that, _Athena._ Blue Team, break off and regroup."

"They're Puddle Jumpers!" an amazed Colonel Carter told her second-in-command. "They're bigger, and the materials are a little different," she noted from the scanner data, "but the design's identical."

"That could be a good thing," Ferretti suggested. "They won't be as manoeuvrable as the '303s, and they're the bigger target. Assuming they can't cloak," he added, slightly worried at that thought.

They couldn't cloak, it seemed. Or, if they could, they simply didn't care to, but that made no sense giving the advantage it would have offered them. Also, when the pods at the side opened out, they fired not the drones used by the Jumpers and chair on Atlantis, but missiles, a host of which were gaining rapidly on Tomlinson and his team.

"Green and Red Teams ready?" the '303 commander called. Similar situations had been hypothetically discussed by the pilots and gunners, and simulated to the best of their abilities during training. The other two teams formed a line, their own missile launchers armed.

Once within a few hundred metres of the waiting craft, Tomlinson gave the order for his team to pull up, which they did sharply and suddenly. As the pursuing missiles dropped their speed in an attempt to alter course and keep up the chase, the other two teams fired. The enemy weapons were all harmlessly dispatched. Then, all twelve F-303s charged right at the approaching Jumpers, rail guns firing rapidly.

They closed too quickly to allow the enemy to utilise their missiles, on the off chance they'd wind up blowing _themselves_ up instead of Tomlinson's people.

_Athena _kept her attention on the larger enemy vessel. Sam ordered that all rail guns that had a firing solution start firing. The fighter battle now slightly off _Athena'_s port bow and ahead of her was out of their hands, the mess of small craft ducking and weaving and firing being too tightly packed to offer any assistance without risking the '303s and their fighter crews. Lieutenant Farris' attention was diverted only momentarily when six Jumpers broke away from the dog-fighting and made a bee-line for _Athena_.

Tasking two rail guns to fire a brief burst each was all it took. The two lead Jumpers were hit before they could even attempt to evade, and their shields were of no use, the _Athena_'s much larger guns being far more powerful than those recently fitted to the gliders. The other four apparently decided they like their chances better against the '303s. Two of them made it back to the dog-fight.

"Colonel, I think I finally know what we're seeing on these readings." Rivers announced. "This is their current shield strength. Tiny bit lower than ours."

"Won't stay that way," said Ferretti, and Sam knew he was right. Without the F-303s to assist in destroying the enemy weapons, more were beginning to slip through, weakening _Athena _'s own shields. Captain Sherwin was doing a good job manoeuvring the ship out of harm's way, but the damage was being done.

Sam would tell herself later that she shouldn't have been able to make this decision so easily, having no idea how many people were on the enormous enemy ship. But, here and now, it was a simple decision of the ' _us or them'_ variety. She gave the order to Ferretti, who keyed in his command code simultaneously with Sam entering her own.

The Mark 9 was protected on all sides by covering fire from _Athena'_s rail guns, the intercepting enemy missiles never a threat. Speeding away towards its target, the warhead veered upwards slightly for a better angle off attack, and shot straight as an arrow from there towards a central point on the ships hull.

The fantastic explosion completely engulfed the massive enemy craft, and the blinding light caught the attention of her fighters, who immediately broke off from their battle and made for their base. The '303s knew better than to pursue, and watched as no fewer than five of the Jumpers were themselves destroyed by the shockwave they rode through to get there. Had they been any closer, none of them would have survived.

The enemy ship survived still, but she was well and truly crippled. Shields gone, massive holes in her hull, unable to move or fire, her only protection remaining – _hopefully_, Sam told herself – was the Jumpers, thirteen of which remained. The F-303's, despite lacking shields of their own, had proven far superior in close quarters. Not a single airman had been lost, though Ferretti noted as they made their way back on Sam's order that most of the fighters had three fighters had taken minor damage, while two more were in need of serious repair.

"Orders, ma'am?" Ferretti asked.

"Pull back to twenty kilometres, directly facing the enemy ship." She turned to Dr. Rivers. "Damage report?"

"High levels of hull stress along the central section of the ship. No fractures. Small fires in Engineering and one of the science labs, they've both been taken care of. No casualties reported. Shields at forty-eight per cent."

"I'll bet _they_ wish they could say the same." Ferretti indicated the ruined vessel. "Think if we talk, they'll listen?"

"I doubt they have much choice, assuming they didn't call for backup. We could leave them stranded here. I doubt anyone would survive that," she added, less sympathetically than she felt, this being her doing, after all. _How many dead already?_ Sam wondered. "There's no way they could attempt to land for repairs on the planet, if they could even get moving again." Jonas arrived quickly when she announced that he was needed on the bridge.

While Ferretti went about ensuring that all guns were being reloaded, ordered that the shield integrity immediately be restored, and announced to the ship they were standing down to Yellow Alert, Sam ordered Dr. Rivers to attempt communication with the enemy. "We may need an interpreter," she told Jonas, who nodded. The ship had the Asgard program to translate any spoken language, but Thor had warned her that if it encountered a new language, the translation would likely be rough, the context of the words likely lost.

There was no guarantee that they could actually hear what she was saying, and therefore the transmission was also being sent to the Jumpers, who were far more likely to still have active communication ability. "This is Colonel Samantha Carter of the United States Air Force Vessel _Athena_, of Earth." For some reason, she felt stupid adding the 'of Earth' part, but at least it wasn't 'Live long and prosper.'

"We're willing to provide help with yours repairs and casualties, once I hear a guarantee that this fight is _over._" The Jumpers stood protectively between their ship and _Athena_. They wouldn't be able to put up any kind of fight against her guns, but Sam felt they might yet try if they were desperate enough.

Nothing. No reply. No way of knowing for certain that any of them could hear a word of this transmission.

"Colonel." Sherwin had taken over the more routine scans while Dr Rivers attempted to put Sam through to their attackers. "The gate on the planet has activated." A moment later, she announced she was picking up _Athena-2_'s radio signal.

"Bring them to the bridge, then dial out through the gate on the surface and recall Athena-3. If these guys don't answer soon, I won't risk the cavalry showing up. I want to be out of here as soon as possible."

The cavalry, however, had apparently already been called, most likely as soon as the fighting had started.

Major Lorne's team, having appeared on the bridge, was being filled in on the events of the past hour. His team were early, nothing of interest having been found within five clicks of the stargate on the planet they'd been visiting, though Hailey was certain the planet itself was inhabited, even if no settlement had been close enough for them to see.

Before Athena-3 could return, a trio of ships identical to the one _Athena_ had just crippled dropped out of hyperspace within seconds of each other, weapons fully armed. Sam immediately ordered the cloak raised, hoping they wouldn't have time to get into another fight – one they would almost definitely lose.

Still no sign of Athena-3 showing up on the planet. The new ships stood prone, and Dr. Rivers made note of a flurry of a stream of communication between the one that had appeared first of the trio and the Jumpers. Of course, they couldn't hear what they were seeing, but the signal was easily identified, even if they conversation was behind closed doors.

After a few moments, the lead ship moved in front of the cloaked _Athena'_s defeated opponent, obscuring her from view. _In case we decided to finish them off_, Sam thought.

"Colonel, they're trying to talk to us." The ship's computer automatically modified the signal being transmitted towards them, relaying it through the Comm. system in a format more suited to their own systems.

The dry, dull voice was speaking in English, no translation required by the computer. "Colonel Samantha Carter, formerly Major Samantha Carter of the vessel known as _Prometheus?_"

Sam tried not to let her surprise at this knowledge show. Confident that responding would not reveal their position, she decided this was as good an opportunity as they might have for some time to talk to these people, and maybe even reason with them. "That's correct. With whom am I speaking?"

"My lady. Praetorian General Bruttius Agelastus, at your service."

The entire bridge did a double take at this most unexpected greeting from the apparent compatriot of their attackers, and he wasn't done yet. "May I ask that you and your ship accompany us to our capital?" The old-sounding general asked almost reverently. Obviously expecting hesitation, he added, "You have my word as an officer of the Dominion that no hand will be raised against you or your people."

Needing a moment to think, Sam responded with the simple truth. "We have people due to return through the stargate on the planet soon. We can't go anywhere until they're back onboard."

"Of course," came the immediate reply. "We await your word. In the meantime, we must make preparations to tow our damaged ship."

"Very well." Sam agreed. "_Athena_ out." She dropped, stunned, back into her chair.

TBC.


	17. Part XVII

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Season Nine would have been... different.

* * *

**Part XVII**

"So," Sam began, looking around the table at her senior staff, "am I insane to even think about going along with this?"

"Our orders are to find out whatever we can about these guys," Ferretti pointed out, "if they're laying out the red carpet, we should take advantage. We may not get half as good an opportunity again."

"Should the need arise, I believe this vessel would be capable of defending itself against an attack long enough to allow us to escape," Teal'c contributed, nodding in Felger's direction, "particularly with the improvements made to the F-303s."

Sam nodded but didn't speak for a few moments. "Why did they call a truce?" She asked, not expecting anyone to be able to answer her question. "Why would they want us to visit their planet?"

"An ambush, perhaps?" Kaímar suggested practically.

"I do not believe so." Bra'tac spoke up. "Drawing an enemy to the home base is unwise, particularly when you know little about their capabilities. We successfully defeated one of their vessels, perhaps, in doing so, we won their respect."

"They didn't roll out the red carpet because we kicked their asses," Ferretti objected, "they invited us back once you gave your name, Colonel." He chuckled lightly. "Maybe they're just gentlemen and don't believe in firing on girls."

"Wonderful." Sam smiled slightly at the jest. "I had to travel millions of light years to another galaxy to find out that chivalry isn't dead." There was a ripple of laughter at her words. "Our new friends are going to be needing an answer soon," she said, "does anyone have anything they'd like to add? Any concerns or objections?" They shook their heads in response. "I'm going to accept their invitation," she decided after a few moments' consideration. "Major Ferretti is right; we've been ordered to find out as much as we can about these people and this is the best chance we're likely to get."

"I'll tell Captain Sherwin to contact the aliens and plot a course for their planet." Ferretti volunteered.

"Thank you. Teal'c, could you speak with Sergeant Hayden in Engineering and have him make sure that all systems are operating at peak efficiency, just in case we do need to make a quick getaway."

"I will." He promised.

"Good. I'll relay a message to Atlantis and they can update the SGC. Dismissed."

* * *

Although the lab and office Jonas had been assigned for his new department were spacious and though he had not been working in them long, there was hardly any shelf or desk space that wasn't cluttered.

Another commander might have been appalled by such chaos but Sam knew Jonas well enough to know that despite the chaotic appearance of his surroundings, her friend would have been able to tell her exactly where everything was and that all of his notes would be up to date and entered onto the ship's computer network.

Jonas looked up as she entered, smiling broadly. "Hi, Sam," he lifted a stack of files from one of the stools, motioning for her to take a seat. "Anything we can help you with?"

He had only chosen two people for his department so far; a man and a woman specializing in archaeology and anthropology respectively, preferring to stick with a smaller group unless expansion became absolutely necessary. Both nodded politely when Sam entered but did not speak, feeling rather in awe of their ship's commander.

"I wanted to know what you think of our new friends," Sam told him, "those puddle jumpers…"

"You think that they might be Ancients?"

"Connected with them, at least. I don't think that they're actually Ancients, the design of their ship is very different and the puddle jumpers look a bit the worse for wear, like they've been salvaged from a scrap yard."

"Or replicas built with the same template but without the right tools or equipment." Jonas agreed. "This General Agelastus - he called himself 'Praetorian', that's a title that was used in Ancient Rome, so it's strange to find someone calling himself that two thousand years later and millions of light years away in another galaxy."

"His name is Roman too." Jonas' female team member, Dr Helen Pompey, spoke up shyly.

"We know that the Ancients were connected with the Romans," Sam agreed, "and that Latin is very similar to their language. Maybe some of them left Earth after they travelled there from Atlantis and ended up in the Antlia galaxy."

"Or maybe they didn't all go to Earth in the first place." Jonas suggested. "When the Wraith attacked, the people evacuating Atlantis left for Earth, but it's possible that other Ancients might have left before that point and travelled here, they might not even have Ascended when the others did. Maybe Agelastus' people are their descendents. They may be able to teach us a lot, there's still so much we don't know about the Ancients."

"Living descendents of the Ancients?" Sam smiled half-heartedly. "Daniel will never forgive me for not bringing him along."

"Who knows how far they've evolved since their ancestors left Atlantis." Jonas said, beaming at the prospect of learning more about the Ancients.

"Or regressed." Dr Pompey suggested.

"Helen?" Jonas gave her a quizzical look.

"Colonel Carter mentioned that the puddle jumpers they were using didn't look the way they should," she elaborated, "so maybe you're right that they're replicas based on the original designs. If they're descendents of the Atlanteans, then their technology should have had at least ten thousand years to evolve and develop."

"So it should be far more advanced than anything that we've encountered so far." Sam suggested, catching on to the other woman's train of thought.

"But clearly it's not. If anything, they're less advanced technologically than the Ancients are. If they are descended from the Atlanteans, then something must have happened for them to have taken a backward step."

There was silence for a few moments as Sam digested this, broken by Jonas' query.

"Has Agelastus mentioned how he knew your name? Was he on the ship you helped out of the nebula?"

"He hasn't said anything." Sam responded. "His ship is definitely the same type of ship that the _Prometheus_ encountered, but I don't know if it's the same ship. I never actually spoke with anyone, either, so I don't recognize his voice."

"What do you think?"

"I don't think it is," She stated, "if Agelastus had been on the ship in the nebula, he would probably have said so before now. He knows about what happened, but I don't think that he was actually there."

* * *

_**Three days later**_

After supplying Captain Sherwin with the coordinates to his home world, Agelastus contacted the _Athena_ only once more, to let Sam know that at their present speed, they should reach their destination within the hour.

Although she was still apprehensive about her upcoming meeting with the Dominion bigwigs, Sam had been far too busy to dwell on it, something she was thankful for. She had relayed a message to Earth through Atlantis and General Landry had given his blessing to the proposed visit, as aware as she was that such opportunities did not come every day.

She couldn't keep a small smile from springing to her lips as she pinned her eagle insignia to her dress uniform; it was not the first time she had worn them since her promotion, but the novelty had not yet worn off.

"Colonel Carter," Kaímar's low voice rumbled from the doorway, "are there particular garments that you would like me to don before I accompany you to the surface?" He asked, eyeing her attire. While on duty, the crew tended to stick to black jumpsuits or BDUs but for what was essentially a state visit, something more formal was necessary.

Suppressing a laugh at the idea of Kaímar in dress blues or a suit, Sam shook her head. "No, that's alright, you're fine just as you are. How did your training with Bra'tac go? Your first lesson was today, wasn't it?"

"It was," Kaímar agreed guardedly. "However, I was unable to attend."

Sam looked up, surprised. "Why not?"

"I was assisting Jonas with his study of the Treasures of Old. I have been providing translations for any writings in my tongue."

"I'm sure he wouldn't have minded if you'd had to take off for a couple of hours. Were you able to reschedule?"

"I have not spoken with him."

"You didn't tell him why you wouldn't be able to make it?" Sam's eyes widened at the thought of Bra'tac's likely reaction to being stood up. "Kaímar, that's really not a great beginning. If you need to cancel one of your lessons, for whatever reason, you need to let Bra'tac know so he doesn't spend the afternoon waiting in the gym for you. I'll explain to him that you couldn't make today's lesson and you guys can arrange another time, okay?"

"As you wish." His response was toneless.

"Is everything okay?" She asked gently, seeing the expression on his face and remembering what Bra'tac had said about Kaímar's apprehension towards Jaffa. "You know that you don't have to train with Bra'tac if you really don't want to, don't you? I just thought that you might like the chance to study combat with someone who can actually teach you something," she said with a smile, knowing that her apprentice could run rings around her as far as hand to hand fighting was concerned.

"I do not trust Jaffa." Kaímar stated, his tone grim. "When the Unas were enslaved many thousands of years ago, before my people were rescued by Luachra, it was the Jaffa who imprisoned them, who treated them like beasts of burden."

"The Jaffa were slaves themselves," Sam pointed out, "they needed symbiotes to stay alive and they believed that the Goa'uld were gods. They had no choice."

"There is always a choice. The Jaffa have broken away from the Goa'uld in recent years, have they not?"

"Most of them, yes."

"Then why did they not do so thousands of years ago?"

Sam sighed. "That's easier said than done. You stood up to your father when he tried to kill me because you thought that he was in the wrong – was that the first time you'd gone against him?" Kaímar nodded. "Was it also the first time you thought that he was wrong about something?" He didn't need to say anything; she could see the answer written on his face. "Teal'c, Bra'tac – all the Jaffa on this ship – they're here because I know them and trust them. Do you trust my judgement?"

"Of course." He answered immediately.

"Then you can trust them. It's up to you whether or not you train with Bra'tac. If you don't want to, I won't make you but I really think that you should take advantage of the opportunity. Just think about it, okay?"

"I will." He promised.

"That's all I ask."

"Colonel Carter," Captain Sherwin's voice filtered through the comm system. "We've arrived at the coordinates, General Agelastus is hailing us."

"On my way, Captain." Sam responded, making her way from her office to the bridge, where Jonas and Teal'c were waiting, both dressed in suits. An image of the planet's surface had been uploaded onto her monitor, showing what she assumed to be the capital city, with a huge, gleaming white palace almost dead centre. She sat down in her chair and tapped the comm controls. "This is Colonel Carter."

"I have notified the Patrician of your arrival, my lady," General Agelastus told her, "and he asks that you favour him with your presence at an audience."

"I'd be honoured." Sam responded politely.

"It is you who honours us, my lady," Agelastus countered immediately. "I have sent the coordinates to your pilot. If you will let me know when you are ready to transport to the surface, I will have the shields lowered to allow you access."

"Thank you." The mention of shields had left Sam feeling a little uneasy, but she wasn't surprised that an advanced society would have protection in place for their officials. She stood, motioning for Teal'c, Jonas and Kaímar to join her. "We're ready to transport."

* * *

The room they materialized in was a large one, though not as big as Sam had half-expected it to be. It was opulently decorated, with marble floors, intricate mosaics and silk hangings on the wall. The only furniture was a table and chairs at one end but even they were ornately carved and gilded with gold.

Whoever had designed this place had clearly not been concerned with cost.

Three men beamed into the room just seconds after they did, the oldest of them bowing deeply as soon as he saw Sam. "Colonel Carter."

"General." Sam returned his greeting, noticing the way his eyes widened when he saw Kaímar. "Allow me to introduce Teal'c, Jonas Quinn and Kaímar," she indicated each of the three in turn, "they are members of my crew."

"An honour." Agelastus said curtly, scarcely sparing them a glance before returning his attention to Sam. "The Patrician is holding audiences in the Throne Hall at present, my lady, but he has been notified of your arrival and will be here shortly."

The words had scarcely been spoken when footsteps echoed outside the room. The heavy doors were pushed open and twelve men carrying staffs marched in, ranging themselves on either side of the door. They were followed by a man Sam estimated to be in his sixties, wearing a ruby red toga trimmed with gold and crowned with a golden wreath. He was tall, though somewhat stocky with a neatly trimmed beard. A further twelve men followed him into the room.

"Patrician Artorius Minucius." Agelastus announced, bowing his head. "Allow me to present Colonel Samantha Carter of the vessel _Athena_."

"Patrician." Sam greeted him, hoping that it was an acceptable mode of address. Causing a diplomatic incident was not on her list of things to do.

The Patrician smiled broadly, moving swiftly towards her and bowing before taking her hand and kissing it. "You will allow an old man the privilege, I hope, Lady Samantha." He said warmly. "I thank you for honouring me and my people with your presence. After almost four years of hearing your voice in my dreams, of trying to picture your face, I cannot tell you what it means to me to finally see my saviour, face to face."

TBC.


	18. Part XVIII

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Season Nine would have been... different.

* * *

**Part XVIII**

As the Patrician ushered her through his palace, stressing how honoured he and his people were by her presence and telling her a little about his planet, Rhea Prima, Sam couldn't help but be reminded of her nephew's enthusiasm, when he was about five or so, for showing off a new toy or a friend. He had scarcely glanced in Teal'c or Jonas' direction and hadn't even seemed to register Kaímar's presence – remarkable, given that her nine-foot tall apprentice was not exactly easy to overlook.

"I had thought that I was to be trapped there until the end of my days, that I would never see my home again, never rejoin my people," he told her, his eyes darkening momentarily at the memory, "and then I heard your voice and knew that the gods had not forsaken me, that they had sent their messenger, their angel to rescue me so that I might continue with the tasks laid upon me." He turned, taking both her hands in his and meeting her eyes. "You restored my faith in my destiny that day when you delivered me from that nebula." He swore reverently. "If you had not, I cannot bear to think what would have become of my people, of my world."

Sam felt her cheeks growing warm. "I'm not an…"

"Had it not been for you, Lady Samantha, I would not now be ruler of my people." He raised her hand and kissed it. "Everything I have achieved since that day, I owe to you." He didn't give her a chance to dispute this, escorting her to a doorway and waiting for his guards to open it, then leading her out onto a balcony overlooking a crowded square and announcing her name to the people below.

The cheers were almost deafening.

* * *

"As first contacts go, this has to be one of the better ones," Ferretti remarked once the senior staff had assembled in the briefing room, "it's pretty hard to top being considered the ruler's saviour." 

Although Sam wasn't sure that she agreed with her second in command's statement, she didn't object aloud. "The Patrician has invited me to a reception at the palace tonight."

"Are we invited?" Ferretti asked. "I love a good party."

"Only Colonel Carter is invited." Teal'c answered for her, his frown indicating his displeasure with this. "I do not believe that you should attend alone." He told Sam seriously. After what had happened over Bra'tac's illness, he was reluctant to question her decisions, particularly in front of other members of her crew, but his fear that the Rheans might pose a threat to his friend would not allow him to remain silent.

"I'm not going alone," Sam assured him, nodding in Bra'tac's direction and giving her apprentice a small smile. "Bra'tac will be coming with me. I'll be fine." Seeing that Kaímar was ready to object to this plan, to insist that it was his duty to stay by her side, she stressed the last part, hoping that by showing that she trusted the Jaffa master, she would encourage Kaímar to do the same.

"I've spoken to the Patrician about the possibility of sending teams out into their territory. We need to learn all we can about the Dominion, but I don't want any more of our people running into trouble with their soldiers. He's arranged for his soldiers stationed throughout this galaxy to be notified about the possibility of running into our people, and he's given me safe conduct passes for all team members – and whatever you do, don't lose them. Major," she turned her attention to Ferretti, "your team is scheduled for a mission this afternoon, to a planet outside Dominion control."

Her implication was clear; although Minucius was all too eager to regale her with stories of his adventures and how her rescue had inspired him to continue his life's work, Sam was not planning on accepting his word as the truth and knew that if she wanted to get a better idea of what was going on, they were going to have to search further afield.

Ferretti nodded. "Yes, ma'am. We can be geared up and ready to go in twenty minutes."

"Good." She could tell from the expression on Kaímar's face that he was less than happy with a plan of action that would separate him from her but she thought that it would be better for all concerned if he began to interact more with the rest of the crew; apart from herself, Jonas was the only one her apprentice spent much time with.

"If it's possible, I'd like to explore the city with my people," Jonas suggested, "there's probably a lot we can learn from them."

"And if they have any Ancient technology intact, I'd like to get a look at it." Felger chimed in, ideas for further improvements to the _Athena_ already starting to take shape in his mind.

"I'll see what I can do." Sam promised, rising and indicating that they should do the same. "Dismissed."

* * *

****

**_Evening_**

Like all of her crew, Sam had brought some civilian clothes onboard the _Athena_ and before leaving her quarters to collect Bra'tac, she had spent a long time trying to decide whether to wear her dress uniform or whether something less formal would be more appropriate before settling on a long, dark blue dress.

When she met Bra'tac by the transporters, she was both amused and pleased to note that he too had put some thought into preparing for the evening; while he was wearing his usual armour, he had opted to leave his staff weapon behind. Sam couldn't help but wonder what he had hidden under his silver cloak, but decided not to ask.

Captain Sherwin's voice filtered through the comm. system, informing her that the security division at the Patrician's palace had confirmed that they were cleared to transport down to the prearranged coordinates.

"Thank you, Captain," Sam responded; "if they're ready, please beam us down."

"Yes, ma'am."

Their bodies were enveloped in white light as they were transported from the corridors of the Athena to a large reception room in the palace, where Minucius and several of his high-ranking generals and advisors, together with the two dozen guards that seemed to accompany him everywhere, awaited them.

"Lady Samantha," Minucius stepped forward, taking her hand and kissing it ceremonially, "I thank you for honouring me with your company this evening."

Sam forced herself to smile in response, trying to hide her discomfort. Although during her time with SG-1 they had infrequently travelled to planets where natives who believed them to have been messengers of the Goa'uld had given them the royal treatment, it was disconcerting to be treated so by an apparently advanced civilisation, particularly when their reverence was directed at her personally.

Unable to come up with anything else to say, she settled for introducing Bra'tac, who stood just behind her, a silent, solid presence. "Allow me to present Master Bra'tac of the Jaffa Nation." The raised eyebrows from one or two of Minucius' entourage at the word 'master' did not escape her notice.

"I understood that you were to be accompanied by a member of your crew, my lady." Agelastus observed, studying Bra'tac with keen eyes.

"Bra'tac is a member of my crew." Sam assured him, not liking the expression on his face and unable to keep a slight chill from her tone.

"But his title…"

"An honorific among my own people." Bra'tac said shortly. Although he was a few inches shorter than Sam, at that moment he seemed like the tallest person in the room.

"You are not of Lady Samantha's world?" Agelastus pressed.

"No. I am not human."

"Patrician…"

"How fascinating," Minucius silenced Agelastus with an imperious wave of his hand, offering his arm to Sam with a courtly bow, "you have gathered a crew from many worlds it seems, Lady Samantha. It is remarkable that you have been able to win their loyalty as you have done. That kind aren't known for their fidelity."

It was on the tip of Sam's tongue to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that he was out of line but Bra'tac caught her eye and shook his head, almost imperceptibly. It was far from the first time that he had not been made welcome because he was a Jaffa and she knew that it was vital that she not give the Rheans any reason to turn against her but it was still hard to keep quiet when one of her people was being slighted.

"Perhaps your crewman would care to dine in the Great Hall," Minucius suggested to Sam, as though Bra'tac had not been present, a slight note of humour entering his voice when he spoke the word 'crewman'. If his tone was any indication, this was a great concession.

Without waiting for a response, he escorted her out of the reception room and with Bra'tac and Minucius' entourage following, they walked down a wide corridor to a set of heavy wooden double doors, the guards stationed there snapping to attention and opening the doors to allow them entrance.

The Great Hall certainly lived up to its name; it was larger than anything she had seen even in Apophis' palace, with space for what seemed like hundreds of dining couches, all occupied by reclining people, who rose to their feet to bow or curtsey as soon as they entered.

The elaborate banquet spread out before them was completely untouched; nobody would eat before their host arrived. Sam wondered how long they had been left waiting.

On a raised platform at the top of the room, at the foot of a wide marble staircase, three unoccupied couches formed a 'U' shape, with low tables laden with food set in front of each. Once he had seated her on the couch to the right, Minucius sat down on the centre couch, indicating that Bra'tac and his generals should be seated, though the guards remained standing.

Seemingly untroubled by the sea of expectant faces in front of them, Minucius calmly poured first Sam then himself a goblet of wine, then selected one of the hors d'oeuvres, put it on a small plate and handed it to her before taking one for himself. He nodded to indicate that she should eat first and she took a tentative bite. Smiling, he too ate the delicacy on his plate and, as if on cue, everybody else in the Great Hall took their seats and began to eat.

Sam was surprised when Minucius rose, extending his hand to help her up. "Now that the formalities are finished, we can retire somewhere more private." He explained, leading her up the stairs and escorting her into another room, of a generous size and lavishly decorated, where two couches and a table were laid out. "I thought that it would be better if we could eat without all the ceremony and without an audience," he told her, seating her on one of the couches. "You have no objection, I hope?" He asked hastily, as though stricken by the thought that she might not be happy with the arrangement.

"No, this is fine, Patrician." Although she was thankful not to have to eat in front of hundreds of people, she was taken aback by Minucius' willingness to dispense with his team of bodyguards, who had always been by his side until then.

"Excellent." He lifted a tiny silver bell from the table and rang it, after which around eight servants, all clad in long, rust-coloured tunics, filed into the room bearing laden trays, which they set on the table before filing out, without ever speaking a word or making eye contact with either Sam or Minucius.

"All the ceremony does get wearying," Minucius commented genially, settling himself comfortably on his couch and helping himself to the first course. "You need have no fears about our safety, Lady Samantha," he assured her, seeing her glance towards the door. "Even without our guards, we are well protected. This room is shielded and will allow no one access."

Although Minucius had been nothing but pleasant, to her at any rate, Sam did not like the idea of being trapped with him. "What if there was an emergency?"

"Oh, there is no difficulty in transporting _out_, my lady," he assured her. "But nobody who means us harm will ever be able to transport _in_."

"I see." Sam didn't know how the ancient Romans had been able to recline for every meal, she was finding it distinctly awkward and every time she reached for one of the dishes, she said a silent prayer that she wouldn't spill something on her dress.

_'Although,' _she thought ruefully, _'if that didn't stop the whole "saviour" thing, nothing would.' _

Minucius smiled fondly at her, like an uncle surveying a favourite niece. "I never dared hope to see you, that the angel the gods had sent to deliver me would one day return."

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not an angel, Patrician, I'm human, like you. I wasn't sent to rescue you, we were just there to study the nebula."

"And how many nebulas are there in your galaxy, my dear? Any one of them would be a fascinating study, so what brought you to that particular region of space, at the precise time when I was stranded and in need of aid?" His smile became very broad. "The gods know their reasons for choosing which people are to be their instruments, as they chose you for their messenger, though you did not know it – and as they have chosen me to be the fire that will cleanse the Dominion of the unclean."

* * *

"Trees, trees and more trees." Ferretti quipped as he led his team through the forest in which the planet's stargate had been set. "The excitement never stops." They'd been on the planet for almost three hours, had explored in every direction, and had yet to see so much as a mutant alien squirrel, let alone any sign of civilization. "Does anyone think that anything we've seen warrants staying here for _another_ three hours?"

Jonas spoke up, smiling. "Well, if you like trees…"

"Right! We're leaving."

The gate was a couple of miles away, and they could still see it from their heightened position. "Jonas, you got all the plant samples you need?"

"Yeah, everything seems pretty generic. Not much variation on what grows here. Which is pretty weird."

"Weird, how?" Tierney asked.

"Well, look at the size of this place. Nothing but trees in every direction, and nearly all the same species. Any forest this size, we should be able to spot dozens of different species from any spot. Plus, there should be a lot more animals. I haven't seen so much as a bird for the past thirty minutes."

"So it's a little quiet. And very boring."

"We are _not_ alone."

Ferretti turned to Kaímar. "What do you mean? This place is completely empty."

"We are being tracked," the Unas told him. "I have yet to _see_ anyone, but there can be no doubt."

"You couldn't have brought this up, before?" Tierney demanded angrily.

"I was waiting for them to make themselves known," he responded calmly. "If they meant us harm, they could easily have ambushed us before."

"Very comforting," retorted Ferretti. "Next time, though, if we're being stalked through the woods, I don't care if it's Jason Voorhies, or Robin Hood, I'd really like to know."

"Who is Robin Hood?"

"Ask Colonel Carter." Ferretti wondered briefly how the Unas didn't need to ask who Jason Voorhies was.

"Major!" Tierney pointed out towards the gate. Or, more appropriately, to where the gate _used to be._

"Where the hell did it go?!"

"Don't worry, we'll put it back." The team turned to see a dozen men and women, armed with everything from longbows to what looked like some kind of ray-guns. "Just as soon as we've drafted our message to your Colonel Carter."

Ferretti gestured for his team to lower their weapons, then side-stepped towards Kaímar, placed his hand on the giant spear in his hands, and forced him to lower it. The Unas shot him a mutinous look – Ferretti doubted that surrender was a popular concept among his people - but complied.

_Worst mission EVER! _

TBC.


	19. Part XIX

**Disclaimer: **We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Seasons Nine and Ten would have been… different.

* * *

**Part XIX**

Their captors were apparently unwilling to take any chances and once they had been blindfolded and marched to the cave where they had set up a base of operations of sorts, the members of Athena-1 had been securely tied up, and Kaímar was dragged across the cave floor and left in a corner a few meters away from the rest of the team, tied down with so much rope that he looked like a chicken trussed up for the spit.

Perhaps if they'd tried to fight, they might have succeeded in getting away, but Ferretti had been well aware of the fact that they could have had more reinforcements out there and he doubted that any of them would have any qualms about shooting to kill if the team proved to be more trouble than they were worth, and in any case, with the stargate missing, they wouldn't have been able to go anywhere even if they had been able to escape. It had gone against the grain for him to order his team to lower their weapons and to cooperate and he could tell from Kaímar's exasperated expression that the Unas was less than impressed with his decision but it was his job to keep his team safe, and a temporary surrender was the best way to ensure this, in the hopes that he would be able to talk to their captors.

They were a motley crew; the dozen men and women who had captured them were joined by another thirty people or so, some of them human but most of them appeared to be of the same alien race, taller than the humans but not coming close to Kaímar's height, their bodies covered with silvery-blue scales. Surprisingly, several of them appeared to be part-alien and part-human, with scales scattered over their skin and black eyes so liquid dark that they shone like polished glass. Most of them were shabbily dressed, and their weapons were a mixture of advanced technology and more primitive swords, axes and hammers.

'_Although those things can kill you just as well as any other weapon,' _Ferretti reflected unhappily as he watched their captors discuss their fate in hushed tones. "I think that there's been some kind of misunderstanding," he spoke up, hoping that they would be open to reason.

One or two of the group cast a half-contemptuous, half-pitying look his way but they didn't speak and one man, who couldn't have been much more than twenty but who nevertheless seemed to be a leader of sorts, ignored him entirely and continued writing something on a creamy sheet of paper but Ferretti soldiered on.

"We're new in these parts – so is our commander, so I don't know what business you could possibly have with her but I'm sure that if you talk to her, she'll be happy to help you however she can."

"Your Colonel Carter has already _helped_ enough!" One of the alien members of the group snapped angrily, spitting contemptuously on the ground as though speaking Sam's name had left a foul taste in his mouth.

"You said that you wanted to send a message to Colonel Carter," Jonas tried, hoping that a diplomatic approach might help their cause. "If you put the stargate back where it was, we can go back through it to our ship and give her your message."

His words seemed to amuse the young man, who looked up from his writing with a dry chuckle. "Don't worry, you'll be able to deliver our message for us – at least one of the three of you will." He included Jonas, Ferretti and Tierney with a sweep of his hand before patting a wooden box on his desk. "Whichever one of you fits best in here."

"It's pretty small." Jonas observed unthinkingly.

"Big enough for a head."

"Listen, pal, I don't know what you think your problem with Colonel Carter is," Ferretti was horrified and disgusted by the less than thinly veiled threat but he did his best to keep his cool. _'Diplomacy never was my strong point.'_ "But I can tell you that whatever it is you want, she's not going to help you if any of her people are hurt – including us," he added unnecessarily.

"Whatever this is, I'm sure that we can straighten this out…" Jonas began but he trailed off when he saw the furious glare that the young man was giving him.

"Straighten this out?!" His tone was incredulous. "You think that you can 'straighten this out'? Because of Colonel Carter, millions of the people of this galaxy have been killed, millions more enslaved and the most evil tyrant in millennia has a hold on power so strong that none of the efforts of those who oppose him have been able to loose. Tell me, how exactly do you propose to straighten this out?"

"Evil tyrant – the Patrician, Minucius right?" Ferretti's question was rhetorical and none of them answered. "Colonel Carter's not like him."

One of the aliens backhanded him savagely across the face for this, gesturing towards Kaímar. "You must be either very brave or very foolish to dare to try to lie to us when we can see with our own eyes that she has enslaved this one because he is not of her kind, just as the tyrant Minucius does!" His tone and expression softened as he approached Kaímar, crouching next to him and laying a slender, scaly hand on his shoulder. "I regret that you too must be bound, my brother, but it is a necessary precaution. Do not fear. Soon you too will have your freedom, as I do. "We are not their slaves!"

"Do not call me 'brother'." Kaímar's tone was stony, his expression as set and determined as it had been when he had stood against his father in Sam's defence. "I am no slave. It was my wish to act as Colonel Carter's apprentice. She is a great and honourable warrior – greater and more honourable by far than any I have seen here – and I serve her of my choice."

"That it merely what you have been taught to believe," the alien said persuasively, "but once you have tasted freedom, brother, you will be able to see that the she-devil deceived you and you will call for her blood."

"I will not." Even trussed up as he was, Kaímar's dignity was absolute. He seemed almost bored, and Ferretti could easily see him snapping the ropes that bound him and taking on the whole band before any of them even knew what was happening. "And if any person dares to attempt to harm Colonel Carter in any way, I will tear him apart with my bare hands."

The leader seemed slightly upset at this, as if feeling sorry for Kaímar. "It's unfortunate you feel so strongly," he said, regarding Kaímar appraisingly. Lying on the ground covered almost head-to-toe in ropes did nothing to disguise his potential as a fighter. "We could have used someone like you." Shrugging slightly, he turned his back on the Unas. "H'yelo, perhaps it would be prudent to cut his hands off. He looks like he could easily carry out his threat, and I'm far too busy to get killed today."

The alien brandished a long axe, with a razor-thin blade as wide as a man's chest. None of the members of Athena-1 were quite certain, but it seemed the young man hadn't been entirely serious, as the alien made no move towards Kaímar, but simply held the axe-blade under a small beam of sunlight coming through a hole in the cave roof.

"Can you at least tell us why?!" Jonas pleaded. If they knew what they were up against, they had a chance. One of the group moved to strike him but their leader held up a hand to halt him.

"Wait!" He studied Jonas pensively before looking at the other three members of Athena-1, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Perhaps they truly do not know what Colonel Carter has done. If they are to die, they should know why. How much do you know of what happened four years ago between Colonel Carter and Minucius' vessel?"

"Not much." Ferretti said honestly, glad that they were at least talking – although he was less than thrilled that killing his team still seemed to be at the top of their to-do list. "Colonel Carter was alone on the _Prometheus_ – it was one of our ships – and she was trapped in the nebula with an alien ship that had taken the crew captive, she figured out a way out and helped the other ship, Minucius', out in exchange for releasing the crew. She never knew anything about them."

"And she did not ask." The comment was bitter. "If she had, she might have thought twice about unleashing that man on the galaxy." His gaze was locked on the cave walls, as though he could see beyond them to the world as it had been before. "Four years ago, the Rhean system and its territories were at war; a dozen planets were engulfed in a civil war that had claimed millions of lives on both sides and left millions more destitute."

"What were you fighting over?" Jonas asked the question before he could help himself but, to his relief, the man did not seem to take any offence, in fact, he smiled slightly, as though glad that they were interested.

"Whether or not the rights of a Rhean citizen should be extended to those not of our kind – whether they should have any rights at all or whether they were merely cattle, animals the gods had created to serve as slaves and beasts of burden to the Rheans, whom the gods had decreed to be the superior race, created in their image and blessed with their intelligence and grace."

"Sounds familiar." Ferretti muttered, getting a good idea of where this story was going. Jonas' expression was sober as he listened; he could remember how Agelastus had reacted to Kaímar's presence, and his demeanour made more sense now.

"Some believed that all sentient lives should be treated equally, but they were named as radicals by the conservative faction, ignored and mocked until their numbers became so great that they could no longer be disregarded and then it was only a matter of time before conflicts began to break out. It was the second time that a war had been fought over that issue, but seven hundred years ago, the slaves and those who fought for them were easily defeated. This time, the radical side numbered in the millions. Almost all of the Rhean families of the old nobility sided with the conservatives – why wouldn't they, when they depended on the labour of non-human slaves to run their estates? – and they had the resources to ensure that their warriors were better armed, better trained and even better fed than the opposing side. Their victory would have been assured, if they had not been so proud and so vain that each minor noble sought to enhance his own glory, striving to be the best there was for their own purposes, working against one another as much as against the radicals. They would have needed only to stand back and watched as the conservatives destroyed one another if there had not been one man amongst them who was able to persuade them that they needed to work together, that it was more important that they stand united against those who had so little respect for the purity of Rhean blood that they were willing to see it defiled by mixing it with the blood of aliens – I believe that some of you have met him."

"Yes," Jonas nodded, indicating himself and Kaímar. "We've met the Patrician… I mean Minucius," he amended hastily, not wanting to offend them by using the title that Minucius had adopted for himself.

The leader's expression became amused as he glanced across at Kaímar. "Our noble Patrician must have been greatly put out," he remarked, his words tinged with irony, "to bring one's non-human slave to a formal event is simply not done in polite society – though I am certain that the lovely Lady Samantha can be forgiven anything."

"Not by you." Kaímar stated flatly.

Ferretti suppressed a groan, frowning at Kaímar, hoping to remind him that antagonizing the people who were holding you and your team prisoner was not always a wise course of action, especially when they were planning on using your heads as envelopes but fortunately, the leader either didn't hear him or chose to ignore him in favour of continuing his story.

"He as the only one among them smart enough to put aside issues of his own glory and actually focus on the bigger picture. It took him some months to bring his compatriots around to his way of thinking, but in a matter of weeks following his taking command of the war effort, the rebels lost several major battles. The entire tide of the war turned, all because of one man."

"So they tried to cut off the snake's head, hoping that that the body would die?" Tierney asked, speaking up for the first time.

A decisive shake of the head. "If they had attempted to assassinate Minucius and failed, he would have amassed even greater support in sympathy. If they succeeded, he would have become a martyr to his cause and his followers would have continued to fight in his name. He needed to be removed from the equation, but not through his death. The radicals were very fortunate in one of their assets; a man named Lucius Aurelius, the eldest son of a very old, very wealthy and very noble house, a graduate of the most prestigious military academy on Rhea Prima and an officer serving on Minucius' flagship. He relayed information to the radicals initially, but when the conservative forces became too powerful to hold against, he proposed a plan to remove Minucius from the conflict without the risk that he would be named a martyr. An unstable element was introduced into the ship's engine core, ensuring that when the crew next attempted to use the hyperdrive, it would overload, propelling them far enough away to ensure that Minucius would not be able to return within his lifetime, let alone in time to affect the course of the war.

"The plan began well. When they attempted to chart a course to one of the outpost sectors, the ship's speed went far beyond its usual capabilities, and sped off uncontrollably into uncharted space. But they had underestimated the skill of Minucius' engineers, who were able to halt the vessel in your galaxy. It was millions of lightyears away, but not far enough to guarantee that Minucius would be kept away. Aurelius had been able to sabotage the engines undetected and had taken detailed readings of their surroundings. While the ship was firing on another, smaller vessel – your _Prometheus_ – and abducting the crew for interrogation, he took advantage of the distraction to pilot the vessel into a nebula, where the radiation would prevent many of the systems from operating, ensuring that they would not be able to escape and allow Minucius to return to do more damage. Aurelius had been locked in the brig, but he felt that it was worth it because now it was over… until he heard Colonel Carter's voice, and felt the ship moving out of the nebula.

* * *

"My ancestors fought in the first war, fought for the sovereignty of the Rhean people, against those who wished to pollute the purity of our blood – can you imagine such a heresy, they wished to give inferiors equal rights to the Rhean people, in whose veins runs the blood of the Ancestors, those who first gave life to this galaxy? When the second rebellion began, I knew that it was my duty to fight, to unite my people so that we might stand strong together and drive out those who would destroy us."

Sam had learned enough diplomacy during her ten years of dealing with other species and cultures not to openly show her distaste for what Minucius was telling her, to continue eating as though he was saying nothing out of the ordinary, as though she felt as he did. _Inside_ she was screaming in revulsion as her mind filled in the blanks that Minucius was leaving in his story, undoubtedly in deference to her gender. For once, she was grateful to be dismissed as a lady of delicate sensibilities. The dessert they had been served; an exquisite arrangement of a frothy white nest of something very similar to meringue, except creamier, topped with lifelike fruits crafted from sorbets and delicate sugar flowers that must have taken hours of labour by a team of skilled chefs, tasted like ashes in her mouth.

"Any right thinking man – or woman – could see that we were in the right," Minucius continued, unaware of her reaction, "but there will always be a few who cannot see the truth, even when they have had the advantages of wealth, education and position. My own helmsman – the son of a noble house – betrayed me, acting as a spy for the rebel filth before he sabotaged my engine, no doubt hoping that my ship would be destroyed, killing me and my crew." He shook his head in disbelief. "Can you imagine it? A young noble, with everything before him, being prepared to throw away his own life on such a foolish cause? His poor parents were devastated!"

"I'm sure." Sam murmured, hoping that she was injecting just the right note of sympathy in her tone.

"I did not avenge myself on them," he added, as though this was evidence of great benevolence on his part – and to his mind, it probably was. "I would have been within my rights to call for the confiscation of their property, even of their lives - but when I had been shown such mercy by the gods and their lovely messenger," he raised his goblet to Sam in salute, "how could I fail to show the same mercy to others? In any case," he added briskly, "the gods know that the House of the Aurelii had troubles enough already. Their younger son had been abducted before Lucius took up a position on my ship; at the time, I believed it to be the work of the rebels, hoping to extort money from the family, but now I realize that it must have been Lucius himself who arranged it. Was he not content with shaming his family and disgracing their name without dragging an innocent boy into the conflict?"

"What happened to the boy?"

"We were never able to find him. His parents have given him up for dead." Clearly, the fate of the younger Aurelian son was of no great concern to Minucius, for he quickly turned the conversation back to himself. "Lucius underestimated the skills of my engineers," he remarked with some satisfaction. "They were able to undo the damage he had caused, but not before we had been stranded in your galaxy. I must offer you my apologies, my dear," he said contritely. "When I fired on your vessel, when I abducted your crew, I believed them to be rebels and wished only to learn from them how I might return to my home."

"It's alright," Sam lied, before forcing herself to smile sweetly. "The gods needed me to help you, so you needed to get my attention."

The faint sarcasm in her voice was lost on Minucius, who beamed at her. "I knew that you would understand."

"What happened when you were free of the nebula?"

"Once you saved me, I returned to my homeworld with renewed purpose. I must confess," he lowered his eyes in embarrassment, as though afraid to see her reaction, "that I had begun to waver in my purpose… but you changed all of that. You showed me that my path was a just and true one, and that I followed it by the will of the gods, who would always watch over and protect me." His tone was animated as he continued his story. "with a single stroke, I was able to crush the unholy rebellion and since then, I have dedicated myself to uniting this galaxy as a glorious Dominion under the gods – and it is just the beginning!" He rose, extending his hand to Sam and helping her to her feet before drawing her over to the wide window overlooking the city. "Magnificent, isn't it?"

"It's beautiful." Sam answered honestly. The city was a marvel of architecture, graceful and elegant, pristine and immaculately kept.

"Soon, I will create this protection on every planet in the Dominion. It will be a golden age of peace and prosperity." He lifted Sam's hand to his lips and kissed it reverently. "And I will ensure that every living soul knows that this golden age has come about through you. Everything I have achieved, I have achieved because of you."

* * *

"Minucius is a man of faith; when he heard Colonel Carter's voice, he saw the hand of the gods sending an angel to rescue him in his hour of need, and knew that they had planned a great destiny for him. By scanning Colonel Carter's computers, his officers were able to glean the information they needed to properly channel the power of the unstable element in order to make one final jump, back to Earth. Tell me," his tone became coldly conversational, "have you visited the capital city on Rhea Prima?"

"We have," Jonas responded cautiously, indicating himself and Kaímar, unsure where this was going.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" He didn't seem to expect a response. "The new histories already tell us that after the attempt by the rebels to cast him out, the great Artorius Minucius returned in a blaze of glory. What they don't tell us and will never tell us is that Minucius ignited that blaze by crashing his ship into the fuel storage towers of the old capital city, captured by the radical forces and used as their base of operations. He started a fire that destroyed the city and claimed over eighteen million lives, most of the radicals wiped out in one act. When the smoke cleared, only Minucius' vessel was left. Aurelius was beheaded over the remains of the city, his blood spilled on the ashes, a warning to all those foolish enough to oppose Minucius."

"Those serving on Minucius' crew were all too eager to share the story of how their leader had been saved by an angel sent by the gods. After his return, even those who had been half-hearted in their support of the conservatives, or who had been wavering between the two sides, could not fail to support a man whose cause was so clearly favoured by the gods. Before the week was out, the radicals had been all but exterminated." The leader's voice was clear, almost musical, a sharp contrast to the horrors he was describing. "The Lady Samantha, angelic instrument of the gods, is loved and worshipped and even now she continues to affect the course of Rhean history, as love of her feeds support of Minucius. In the eyes of too many of the people, he can do no wrong. Now that she has come to Rhea, it will be even worse." He frowned darkly. "She should never have interfered."

"What did you expect her to do?!" Ferretti demanded, his temper flaring. "They had the rest of the crew hostage, they weren't answering her communications and even if they were, she wasn't going to ask for the other guys' life stories before trying to cut a deal to save her people."

"Instead she interfered in a conflict she knew nothing about!"

"Look, I don't know how it works here, but where I come from, we don't leave our people behind. Colonel Carter couldn't have known about what Minucius had done and it's not her fault that he's been using her name for PR. If it had been the radicals who were trapped in that nebula, would you be blaming her for helping them?" Seeing from the expression on the young man's face that he had taken his point, he pressed on. "I've known her for more than ten years, and she would _never_ support someone like Minucius. She has non-humans on her crew, but they're there as _crewmembers_, not as her slaves – some of them are Jaffa, a race she helped to free from slavery."

Despite themselves, several of the group looked interested in what he had to say and he continued speaking. "If you want to kill us, we can't stop you – well, maybe Kaímar could," he amended, "but if you really want to have a chance at toppling Minucius, you'll take whatever help you can get – and Colonel Carter can help you."

"And you expect us to accept your word that she can be trusted?" The alien who had been brandishing the axe scoffed. "What proof have we that you can be trusted?"

"What choice have you got?" Ferretti asked reasonably. "You said there were over 18 million of your people in the capital when Minucius hit it," he told the leader. "That must have been almost your entire force, right?"

The young man nodded, and added, "Since that attack, the Patrician has instituted a zero tolerance approach. If word reaches his ears of a dozen or so of our people in a town of hundreds, the town is wiped out to a man."

"We've seen that," said Jonas, "up close. Before we met the Patrician, some of our people were at a marketplace when it was attacked. Minucius' ground troops transported in and started firing in every direction. Our team escaped, but one man almost lost an arm. He may still have, for all we know. He's with our doctors back home, and we haven't received an update on his condition."

"I know the market you're talking about," the leader told them, his voice rising. "Three - _three!__ - _people from another cell were there gathering basic supplies - food and medicine. They were apparently recognised by a man who has ties to an officer on board General Agelastus' ship. He told his cousin, who told the general, who told the Patrician, an the order was given without a second thought. There were over seven hundred people there. None escaped, except, it would seem, your soldiers, and the man who informed on ours. An agent of ours on Agelastus' ship told us that the man was presented with a substantial reward for his services to the Dominion." He fell quiet, as if trying to work out in his head how something like this could have come to pass. Then, as he ran his eyes thoughtfully over the team, his companion seemed to panic.

"You can't believe a word they say!" he hissed aloud in the young man's ear. "Even if they're telling the truth, what does it matter? One of their men getting caught in the crossfire means nothing."

"They destroyed a Dominion ship in battle," the leader reminded him. Ferretti and his team-mates exchanged glances at this. They may not have had many people left, but they were certainly well informed.

"How many of you are there these days?" Ferretti asked.

"Perhaps two thousand, spread among a number of cells and a network of spies," the leader said after a moment.

"That's nothing. You're up against millions of enemy soldiers..."

"Thirty-seven million, including the Civil Guard on Rhea Prima."

"And no support at all?" Jonas pressed.

The young man looked at his companion. Even he seemed to be reconsidering his position. '_That's something,' _Ferretti told himself.

"Since Minucius' attack on the old capital, there has been quite a lot of discontent within the military," the alien told them. "Of course, no word of such misgivings is ever spoken without care for who may be listening, but our spies hear. There is no open support, but many have come to fear the Patrician, and the path he leads them down. Even among ranking officers and ships commanders, the lack of faith can be seen, if one knows what to look for."

"But they'll never openly support you, as long as they're afraid of reprisals from Minucius," Jonas added.

"Our dilemma is the same as always," the leader admitted. "Killing the Patrician accomplishes nothing - in fact, his martyrdom would only make matters worse for us - and we cannot hope to do battle against even the smallest of his forces."

"Maybe there are other options," Jonas suggested. "If you let us go, we'll tell Colonel Carter what you've told us. Maybe she can bring help from our galaxy. You know what one of our ships is capable of, and we have allies more powerful than us. Minucius is dangerous enough that they may be willing to consider coming here to do something about him. Believe me, most of the people we know have dealt with more than their fair share of tyrants. Another one right next door to us is definitely something they wouldn't like the idea of."

"What do you really have to lose at this point?" Ferretti enquired.

For an answer, their captor looked to each of his companions in turn. There were one or two nods of acquiescence, and some faces seemed furious at the suggestion. Others simply stared at the ground, apparently having no idea what they felt the right course of action was.

The group leader breathed a sigh of exhaustion. His eyes locked with Ferretti's as he idly fingered the strange-looking pistol in his belt. Finally, his hand dropped, and he turned his back on them, walking away silently.

The alien made a couple of quick gestures, and the prisoners were all hauled to their feet. Quietly, contemptuously, the alien walked behind each of them in turn, using a large knife from his belt to cut their bonds.

* * *

"It won't end with this galaxy, you know," Minucius remarked casually as he spooned up the last of his dessert and wiped his mouth with a fine linen napkin. "One day, not long from now, perhaps a few years, we will expand into the galaxy nearest us."

'_Pegasus'_ Sam thought, horrified by the thought of how little of a defence the people of Pegasus would have against a Dominion fleet. She wondered if even the Wraith would be a match for them, given how few Wraith there were compared with the massive numbers at Minucius' disposal.

"… and from there, we can move on to your own galaxy, my dear – imagine, the people of your world will have you to thank for allowing them to experience the glory and the light of purity that the Dominion brings and one day…" he trailed off with a self-deprecating smile. "But I'm getting ahead of myself. There's a question I would like to ask you…"

Whatever he was planning on asking, he never got the chance. A fist hammered on the door and one of Minucius' guards entered, dropping to one knee and mumbling apologies.

Bra'tac strode past him, "I have had a message from the _Athena_, Colonel Carter," he announced without preamble, "Major Ferretti's team is almost two hours overdue for their check-in."

Minucius was instantly alert. "Which planet were they exploring?" When told, he frowned. "That it not an area known for rebel activity, but they spread disease like rats, so who knows how far their poison may have spread – just weeks ago, I was obliged to order the destruction of a village known to be harbouring a subversive, after all the security and prosperity the Dominion had brought them!" He shook his head as though dismayed by their ingratitude before turning to Sam, an apologetic expression on his face. "I have been careless, Lady Samantha, unforgivably so. General Agelastus recommended that I detail a company of my own troops to accompany your teams on their explorations and protect them from all those who meant them harm but I believed that they would be safe. I will not be so overconfident again. You!" He gestured impatiently for the guard to rise.

"How may I serve, Patrician?"

"Tell General Agelastus that I wish him to assemble a company of my finest troops. Don't worry, my dear," he told Sam reassuringly, "I'll find your people for you, even if I have to set all my men to searching the galaxy for them – and if they have been harmed in any way, they will be avenged."

"It's very kind of you to be concerned," Sam began, forcing herself to be diplomatic, "but they're only a couple of hours overdue and there could be a lot of reasons for that. I don't think that we should assume the worst case scenario…"

"Of course not," Minucius said, clearly humouring her, "but I'm sure that you'll agree that we should take every precaution. You need not concern yourself with his," he patted her hand gently. "I'll soon have this sorted out."

* * *

None of the members of Athena-1 had felt much like sitting down once they had made their way to the briefing room. Once they had returned to the ship, a message had been sent to Sam and Bra'tac to let them know that the team was back safely and now all they could do was wait for them to get back.

After what he had heard about Minucius, Ferretti was frustrated by the thought that his commanding officer was down there with him, surrounded by his soldiers and his supporters, with only Bra'tac for back-up but much as he would have liked to have ordered Shervin to beam them both back onto the ship the instant he got back to the _Athena_, he knew that they could not afford to do anything that would alert Minucius or his people to the fact that anything was wrong.

Gaius had made the need for discretion plain to them as the stargate was being returned to its rightful place to allow them to leave. Minucius was no fool, and despite his belief in Sam as a divine messenger, as his savior, and his awareness of how valuable her presence was to him politically, he would kill her and her whole crew in a heartbeat if he thought that they were a threat to him or to his power.

The seconds seemed to creep by very slowly before Sam beamed into the briefing room, Bra'tac at her side.

"You have no idea how big a panic you guys caused," she commented, smiling ruefully, "the Patrician was already assembling troops – a few _thousand_ of them – for a search party, with more reinforcements on the way when Captain Sherwin reported that you were back safely. I think he was ready to have them go through the whole galaxy with a fine tooth comb if that's what it took to find you. Are you all okay?" She asked, scanning their grim expressions and checking for visible signs of injury. "Sherwin said that you'd had some problems with the stargate – and that Lieutenant Tierney had fixed it."

Lieutenant Tierney was a fine officer, with an excellent record and a reputation for resourcefulness and initiative but she was no expert on stargate technology. Her background was in Special Ops, with degrees in communications and political history.

In fact, Sam noted inwardly, none of the members of Athena-1 had much experience with stargate technology, and even Jonas' knowledge of the subject was pretty basic. It was a situation that would have to be rectified, to ensure that each team had someone who was well-versed in stargate technology, in case there was a malfunction.

"So," she looked from one team member to the other, waiting to be told what had _really_ happened, "what's going on?"

As team leader, the task of spokesman evidently fell to Ferretti. "You know all those random acts of kindness we tend to go in for, that sometimes backfire on us in ways we usually have trouble believing?" He took a deep breath. "I think you just set a record."

TBC.

_Author's Note: Next update will hopefully be sooner than this one. Please review._


	20. Part XX

**Disclaimer: **We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Seasons Nine and Ten would have been… different.

**Authors' Note: **Some violence in this chapter.

* * *

**Part XX**

The checkpoint was manned by twenty guards, each one hot, bored, and tired, shuffling people along without paying any real attention to the people going by. Perfunctory glances at papers and ident cards, immediately followed by half-hearted gestures of waving people on was, sadly, the entirety of their day. Barely a single man among them would be able to recall the face of anybody who passed them by after even ten seconds.

Even so, the tall, shaggy man perusing the queues, ostensibly looking for one that moved faster than the others, was in fact looking for a particular guard. Once he spotted a man he thought might be the one he was looking for, he discreetly checked his pocket for the picture he'd been given by his handler. The hair was a little bit longer, and he was much thinner than the photo showed, but it was definitely him.

Once in line with the others, the man adjusted the wide-brimmed hat he wore, pulling it down on one side to obscure his face a little from the other guards in case one of them recognised him. When he reached the top of the line, the guard did a slight double-take when he saw him, but said nothing, sticking his hand out in request of admittance papers or a card.

The man noticed a slight flicker of movement while the guard unfolded the sheets of paper handed to him, and when he got them back, he noticed that their was one extra sheet; a neatly folded piece of parchment favoured by the snobbish classicists who tended to flock around Minucius and the select few who had his ear. Nodding shortly and walking on without a word, he rounded the nearest corner and ducked into an alley, taking out the picture once again, along with the parchment handed to him by the guard. He read it quickly, swearing under his breath when he saw what it was.

Thoroughly annoyed at what had been given him by the guard, his mood was by no means improved by what he saw when he continued walking. He'd heard rumours of countless makeshift shrines erected by the Patrician's sycophantic followers since the arrival of his 'angel' on Rhea Prima. Glaring at one nearby for a moment, he looked around and almost roared in fury when he realised that he was standing right where the old Senate House had once stood. He'd been in it many times, and now as he visualised the interior of the old city, whose clean, austere structures had been a sharp contrast to the ornate extravagance of the architecture of the new era, he saw that the street corner where it stood was exactly where the podium in the centre of the building had been. It had undoubtedly been placed there in a cruel mockery of one of the few things about the old city that had been worth respecting.

The 'shrine' was no larger than a chest of drawers, but clearly a lot of work had gone into it. Carved out of old, highly polished dark wood, Samantha Carter's face was etched into the back of it. On the alter were dozens of ornate white pillar candles, and in the centre, a large copper bowl full of the ashes of burnt parchment; the selfish wishes of idiots, written out, set alight on the candles, which burned brightly even now, outdoors in the mid-morning sun, and left to burn in the bowl and carry the wishes discussed in their contents to the gods.

Truly furious now, he held the guard's picture over one of the lit candles. As it caught fire he held it, unflinching, in the palm of his hand as it burned. Once it had been consumed, he crushed it in his hand, and dropped the hot ashes into the bowl before walking on.

Moments later, he climbed the side-stairwell of a building four stories tall, containing perhaps a dozen identical doors on each floor, each leading into small, though not tiny, apartments. As he reached the third landing, he scanned the area in front of the building as he walked along. Nothing unusual sprung out at him, and he stopped at the fifth door, checking the numeral before knocking heavily with the side of his fist. At first, only silence answered him, and he was about to knock again when the door creaked, moving slightly before getting stuck, and was then pulled forcefully open.

The man on the other side of the door was the same height as him, though that was where the comparison ended. He was reed thin, with not a hint of fat or muscle anywhere on his body. His gravel-grey skin, mistaken by most as a sign of part-alien heritage, was actually an irreversible after-effect of a childhood illness, and his eyes and skin were so sunken, it was if a black hole stood behind him, and was slowly sucking at a crater in the back of his head.

Mus Macula's name summed him up perfectly – a skinny little rodent whose entire form was nothing more than an unsightly blemish. He'd been working alongside the resistance for almost five years.

Macula gave a small squeak as the other man strode past him, then cleared his throat several times before speaking. "I wondered if something had gone wrong," he wheezed like a man who had just hopped out of bed and run five miles without taking so much as a glass of water first. "I was told to expect you this morning."

"There was a problem at an Inn I stayed at last night," he supplied in a bored voice. "A man died. The local governor had everyone present pulled in for questioning – it seems he and the dead man were friends. Luckily, they never recognised me, or I'd have been fed to the governors' dogs by now."

"Very lucky indeed," Macula huffed, pouring a dark tea into a pair of clay cups and handing one to his guest. "How did the man die?"

"He cheated at cards." Macula's eyes widened slightly, but the man paid him no mind. Instead he pulled a pocket watch from under his cloak and flipped the cover open. "It's almost time. Do you have it?"

"Not here. Follow me." Both cups of tea were set down untouched, and Macula snatched a cloak from its hook behind the door, draping it over his arm.

Once outside the building, they walked straight ahead, passing two street corners before turning left at the third. Just around the corner, Macula unlocked a large wooden door identical to the one at his home, though this one opened into a largish storage shed.

Standing aside for his companion to enter ahead of him, Macula cast an eye over his shoulder before following, running his eyes over nearby rooftops and alleyways, and giving the few people moving up and down the street a quick look. Whatever he saw - or didn't see – seemed to unnerve him ever-so-slightly, but he stepped inside anyway, closing the door behind him and pointing to a table in the back. A plain black bag a little larger than a briefcase sat upon it. "There it is," he told the other man, who opened up the case, quickly scanning the contents with his eyes to make sure everything was there. "Will it be appropriate?"

"Yes." He didn't bother telling Macula that it was actually his to begin with. He simply wasn't about to trust any equipment but his own for something this delicate, and smuggling it in himself would have been too big a risk, so he'd had a colleague arrange for it to brought ahead of him.

He missed some of what Macula mumbled behind him. "I'm sorry?" he said, as he closed up the case and picked it up off the table.

"I said it's high time more direct action was taken," Macula told him, again glancing nervously over his shoulder, though nothing was there but an empty room.

"How do you know why I'm here at all? As I recall, you were just asked to hold this until I arrived."

Macula shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance, but it was clear he regretted having said anything. "Well," he offered, speaking more quietly now, "you do have quite the reputation."

"As do you," the other man told him, smiling coldly. "For speaking out of class."

"WHAT?" Macula squeaked shrilly. Then, barely managing to keep from stammering, he said, "What are you talking about?"

"All those notes to your 'friend' on the Patrician's Intelligence Service," came the mocking response. "I'm afraid he never received this one, by the way," he sneered, plucking the parchment the guard had given him from his pocket, and dropping it on the floor at the rodent-mans' feet, "which means that little party you expected to meet us here won't be arriving. Your courier, the Intelligence Services' loyal creature? I'm sorry to inform you, he's a far better friend to the resistance than you ever were."

All pretence gone, Macula flew into a blind panic, producing a large, slightly curved knife from within the folds of his cloak and striking with surprising speed for someone who looked so sickly.The cool, bored expression never left the other mans' face as he stepped quickly aside. Before Macula could even stop his forward thrust, his target already stood behind him.

A jarring tightness having suddenly formed in his gut as he turned to face his opponent, Macula looked down to see the leather-gripped handle of another blade protruding from his side. A massive patch of scarlet was already beginning to form, and somewhere in the distance, he heard the clattering of his weapon tumbling from his hand.

His mind suddenly catching up with what his eyes saw and the incredible pain of the blade in his liver, he opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out except strangled gasp as the fist caught him right in the throat, and a new pain screamed through his brain.

Time again jumped out of place. He realised suddenly he lying flat on the table. He couldn't sit up; he couldn't breathe; he couldn't do anything but lie there in agony, every attempt to draw breathe simply filling his throat with blood.

His killer walked towards the door, taking a quick look outside, making certain the brief noise had gone unnoticed. Before leaving, he turned back to Macula, whose arms flung wildly about, alternating between clutching feebly at his throat and attempting even more feebly to yank the blade from his side. Knowing that the inevitable may take quite a while, he smiled to himself as he called out a cheerful farewell, and locked the door behind him.

Not long afterwards, he sat in his perch, in a window halfway up a massive round tower the Patrician had had commissioned almost immediately upon his so-called 'renewal' of the city following its' destruction at his hands. Entry into the tower had been expensive, requiring the assistance of yet another of Minucius' more influential guards. He knew of three men from who could have and would have rendered such valuable assistance, and now one of those men would never be able to help the Resistance again, save they be exposed as traitors to Minucius and his ilk. It was also likely that the guard who allowed him entry into the city would never be able to take such a risk. An expensive gamble; one which may yet prove not to be worth the cost.

It was easily the breadth of any eight houses in the cities' upper-middle class district, and taller than anything else in either the new city or the old. At the top of the tower, at night, an enormous fire blazed, like an ancient lighthouse, though why the Minucius felt the need to have such a construct erected in the middle of the city was anyone's guess. In over fifty floors of spotless white stone, there was nothing but windows, walls, and empty space. The tower served no purpose than to remind all those in its shadow of the master they were expected to bow to. Among the Resistance – and occasionally even among his followers, though never where he may hear – the tower went by many names, Minucius' Enflamed Member and The Patricians' Prick being among the most popular. As he assembled the weapon, he considered the irony that it was from this monstrosity that the beginning of deliverance would emanate.

As each part clicked, spun, and slid into place, a meditative calm descended over him. All thoughts of Macula, the Patrician, his 'Angel', and thoughts of success, failure, war, and loss faded away. He pictured each thought taking shape as it left his mind, disappearing into the deep black eyes of the first creature he had ever killed on a hunt – a massive black stag which had ruled over a herd near his uncle's farm. In the picture in his mind, the beast still lived, walking tall in a field of wheat, unaware of the danger it was in, until the last pearly-white ghost disappeared into the dark pool of his eye. Suddenly, it pricked up its ears, and its entire body stiffened for a whisper of a second before it began to bolt. Too late – the boy from the memory held steady and fired, and the stag disappeared in an explosion of ghostly mist.

It had been almost fifteen years since the stag, and barely four since the first man he had killed. Of the man, he couldn't recall a single detail; not his name, or his face, or what exactly he had done to warrant his attention. But the stag was fixed permanently in his mind – as large as a horse, beautiful and frightful. He'd honoured his first kill in the old ways, as taught to him by his uncle. After carving the pelt and antlers for himself as keepsakes, he had burned the animals gall and heart over a small fire in the woods, fascinated by what he had seen in the smoke and flames as they burned. Sleeping by the fire later that night, he dreamed of the life played out in the stag's final message to the world of the living, and the following morning, as he departed for his uncle's farm, he left the entirety of the carcass where it had fallen for creatures nearby to consume. Not a single scrap was wasted – he had returned less than a week later to bury the bones.

The first animal he killed received a departure ritual the likes of which many men only dreamt of, and a proper burial once the local scavengers had had their fill. The first man he killed had been nailed to the doors of Agelastus' old townhouse, while the head had somehow found it's way onto one of Minucius' dinner dishes. He could not recall anything about this man, but the purported reactions of the Patrician and his number one general had been quite comical, and difficult to forget.

The rifle assembled, he held it firm against his shoulder, squinting briefly through the scope and adjusting the focus before pulling his eye back, peering down into the target area. Correcting his stance slightly, he angled the rifle towards the upscale marketplace near the Patrician's palace, rechecked the time, and went back to the scope.

_Right on schedule_

The glint of sunlight on armour in the crowd soon became three guards, became three more, then a further six, all twelve ringed loosely around the Patrician and his companions. The circle didn't bar people from moving freely around, or from moving in to embrace Minucius or Samantha Carter, but the guards carefully scrutinized everybody who crossed their paths, weapons constantly at the ready.

Colonel Carter was standing at one of the market stalls with one of her companions - a tall, heavyset man who seemed to be in the throes of a seizure as he spoke, animatedly gesturing to the various fabrics and patterns flung over the stall. While Minucius seemed somewhat annoyed by his manner, Colonel Carter seemed patiently amused. Clearly, she was well-accustomed to his behaviour.

Also present were two more of Colonel Carter's crewmen – the massive lizard-like alien carrying a spear as tall as himself, with a blade that looked like it could carve through the hull of a warship, while the man with the gold emblem on his forehead held a staff, similarly matched to the owner's height. Both bore looks of discontent, though at least one was not so blatant. The alien had an expression one would expect to see on a frenzied attack dog forced to stand at his master's heel when there were threats that needed disembowelling.

The assassin sought out the Patrician, standing just a little bit behind Colonel Carter, trying not to look like a spoiled child who resented not having everyone's complete attention for once. He said nothing, but clearly he could do without the presence of his _'_angel's_'_friends. His eyes moved to the alien and narrowed slightly, betraying his annoyance at the taboo of his apparent status – not a slave, as Minucius and his ilk would have him be, but apparently a valued trainee crewman with the ear of his commanding officer. The assassin allowed himself a slight chuckle at the discomfort this must cause the Patrician, especially since he could hardly risk saying anything to Colonel Carter, for fear of offending her.

He followed the Patrician as the group began walking again. The scope moved with perfect steadiness as the rifle followed him, never once leaving his face. When they stopped briefly at another stall, one gloved finger slowly squeezed the trigger, millimetre by snail-pace millimetre.

A low click, in chorus with the slightly louder snap of the bolt as the empty chamber to its resting spot was the only result.

_So easy,_ the assassin told himself. But that wasn't what he was here for.

Refocusing on Samantha Carter, he slid the bolt back into place, hearing the bullet being loaded into the chamber. He watched and waited as she walked down along the street, which widened at a four-way fork containing a small fountain, well made despite its plain appearance when compared with the rest of the area. The assassin drew in his breath when she stopped, and held it in, completely still except for the same single finger, slowly squeezing on the trigger.

A blurry figure moved in front of the scope, and the assassin cursed loudly, barely releasing the trigger in time to avoid shooting the bundle in the woman's arms as she approached Colonel Carter. The bundle was an infant, no older than six months.

Taking a series of rapid breaths to steady himself and quell his frustration, he again returned to the scope. The woman with the child, a wealthy family's governess by her dress, was speaking, her reverent expression in clear contrast to Colonel Carter's obvious discomfort. When the other woman held the other child closer, the assassin realised she was asking for a blessing for the baby. He would have laughed at the absurdity, had his anger at that same absurdity not made him want to go down to marketplace and slap the governess in the face. With the rifle.

Despite her misgivings, the Patrician's 'angel' apparently decided it would be best to attempt to satisfy the request. Gingerly placing a hand on the child's head, she spoke briefly. The assassin, being no lip-reader, had no idea what she said, but it seemed to suffice, as the other woman's face split into a delighted grin as she bowed away, hugging the baby.

Once she was gone, Colonel Carter turned back to the man excitable man she'd been speaking to earlier, and after a brief exchange, made as if to set off again. But she stopped once more, a curious look on her face, as if seeing something he hadn't noticed before.

This time there were no distractions. Given his opportunity afresh, the assassin did not squander it.

Unlike when he had been aiming at the Patrician, the click of the trigger and the snap of the bolt could not be heard over the booming crack of the shot. Blood sprayed on the Patrician's face, and his 'angel' hit the ground heavily, clutching at her throat, eyes wide, scarlet oozing from between her fingers.

While her own guards hesitated slightly, Minucius' did not. Not foolish enough to wait for him to give the order and risk his wrath later, half the group gathered quickly around both the Patrician and Colonel Carter, forming a protective shell, obscuring both of them from view. The rest dashed off in the direction of the shot. The massive alien and his companion followed soon after, apparently deciding their efforts were best spent in the capture operation.

Before leaving, the assassin saw the shell of guards and their charges enveloped briefly in a flash of light, before disappearing from sight altogether.

He left the rifle by the window in the tower, made his way quickly downstairs, and joined the gathering crowds in the street, drawn out by the sound of the shot.

TBC.


	21. Part XXI

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Season Nine would have been... different. 

* * *

**Part XXI**

Minucius was sitting by her bedside when she woke up.

Sam had half-expected this, but she still found it difficult to conceal the revulsion she felt when she opened her eyes to see the man she knew to be responsible for the murder of millions of people and the enslavement of millions more sitting less than six feet away from her, his head bowed and his hands clasped, as though in prayer. Fortunately, it took a moment for him to register that she was awake and by the time he did, she had carefully suppressed any hint of disgust in her expression, even managing to force a small smile.

"The gods be praised!" Minucius exclaimed, rising and moving to stand by her side. "How are you feeling, Lady Samantha?"

"What happened?" Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, hoarse and cracked. The left side of her neck throbbed painfully and, probing gingerly with tentative fingers, she could feel a gauze pad taped over the wound.

"You were shot, Colonel Carter." Teal'c had never been one to mince words or to sugar coat an issue.

"Low-calibre sniper rifle," Hailey elaborated. "A quarter-inch further right, you wouldn't be here now." She was standing by the next bed, upon which Felger sat, pale and frozen, the look on his face suggesting he'd probably thrown up. His hands and sleeves were covered in blood. It was probably going to be a long time before he could be persuaded to go offworld again.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, Sam registered that she was in the _Athena_'s infirmary and that she had managed to draw quite a considerable audience. In addition to Dr Brightman and her staff, Minucius was present - for once without his entourage of bodyguards, although Sam did not doubt that they were within hearing range - and Teal'c, Bra'tac, Jonas and Ferretti had all gathered in the room, with Kaímar stationing himself at the head of her bed. 

"I must offer you my deepest and most sincere apologies, my lady," Minucius looked genuinely distressed. "I should have taken more care with your safety while you were a guest of the Dominion, and under my protection. I was overconfident and believed that our escort would be sufficient but I was wrong and I humbly ask your forgiveness for allowing you to be hurt. I don't know what I would have done if anything worse had happened to you."

"Don't worry about it." Sam said, inwardly wondering how on Earth he could possibly have thought that he would be able to do any more to protect her. As it was, she had been all but tripping over their escort – double Minucius' usual, as they were to guard her as well as him – and there was very little anyone could have done to stop a determined sniper, no matter how many bodyguards he surrounded her with. "I'm fine. Did you catch the man?" She asked, in what she hoped was a suitably worried tone. "Was he one of the rebels you were telling me about?"

"You need not fret about him, my dear," Minucius' patted her hand lightly, his avuncular demeanour returning. "I have made certain that he will never be able to harm you again – and that others will think twice before they dare to raise arms against you."

Sam forced a smile to her face. "Thank you."

"Do not mention it, my dear; it was my duty and my pleasure to see that he was dealt with appropriately. If you are feeling strong enough, will you honour me with the pleasure of your company at dinner tonight?" He asked hopefully. "My people will be anxious to see for themselves that you are safe and well. They have been praying for your safe recovery."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible." Although her smile and tone were both pleasant, there was a slight hint of steel in her words. The thought of sitting through another of his elaborate banquets, pretending to be amused by and approving of the stories he told her, made her feel nauseous.

"Oh?" His displeasure at being refused was plain.

"I'd love to be able to stay," Sam excused herself, "but I work within a chain of command and there are certain procedures that I have to follow. Clearly I'm not the most popular person around here. My presence here could make matters worse, and I have to meet with my superiors to figure out what happens next, and if we should return to this galaxy at all or move on to explore somewhere else."

"But, my dear," Minucius protested, clearly less than pleased by the thought that his 'angel' might leave and never return, "it is doubtful that the rebels will dare to launch a second attack against you, not after the first was unsuccessful and their agent was caught. I'm certain that it would be safe for you to remain here if you wish to, and I myself will stand guarantor for your safety."

Refraining from reminding him that he had been apologizing profusely for his failure to protect her less than two minutes ago, Sam smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure that you could, Patrician, and I appreciate your offer, but I really do need to get back to Earth and report back to my superiors. The chain of command is very important to us and I have to abide by it. They need to know what's happening here."

"I understand." He said at last. His smile was clearly forced. "I hope that you will return, soon."

"I hope so too." Sam responded politely.

"Then farewell, my dear, and remember that there will always be a welcome for you in Antlia."

"You're very kind." 

He turned to leave the infirmary, but stopped at the doorway, turning back to look at her. "You are certain that you are well?" He pressed anxiously. "I could send for my own doctors to tend you; the most skilled physicians in the Dominion are in my employ."

"That won't be necessary, I feel fine." Sam assured him, clinging tightly to the remains of her patience, touching the bandage on her neck briefly. "He was a pretty lousy shot."

* * *

"That guy was one hell of a shot," she exclaimed, the moment Minucius had left, before her mind snapped back to what the dictator had told her about the shooter.

"What happened to him?" she asked, turning to Teal'c.

"He very nearly escaped," he told her slowly, "but the Patrician's guards managed to reach the city limits and blockade all exit points before he could leave."

"And when they found him?"

"They did not."

Sam paused at this. "Didn't Minucius say he'd been 'dealt with'?"

When Teal'c didn't answer right away, Kaímar took over. "The moment the shot was fired, a great many people flocked towards the gates of the city, so as to avoid being implicated in the event, even as a witness. Cowards," he spat. "When the soldiers couldn't identify the assassin among so many, they picked half a dozen slaves from the crowd, shot one in the face, and called out that he had one minute to reveal himself unless he wished for the rest to die."

"He gave himself up?"

"Yes. The soldiers bound his hands and feet, shot the remaining slaves before his eyes, stabbed him in the stomach, and left, but not before announcing that any attempt to help him would be punishable by death, on the Patrician's order. Teal'c and I approached him once the guards had departed. Nobody else dared go near him. The guards who remained at the gates were watching us. There was nothing we could do for him," he announced solemnly, "except end his suffering."

Sam felt her stomach churning, and was glad she hadn't eaten. "Son of a bitch!" she breathed, shaking. Catching Kaímar's slightly stricken face, she realized that he thought she was talking about him and Teal'c. "You did the right thing," she assured him. "It could have taken him hours to die like that, maybe days, and you can be sure that nobody else would have had the courage to do a thing for him."

"Umm, Major Carter?" said Felger tremulously – given that he still looked like he could be ill again at any moment, Sam didn't bother to point out that it had been a long time since she'd been a major – "do we really care what happened him? What they did to the others may have been horrible, but this guy tried to kill you!"

Reaching for a glass of water by the bed, Sam took a couple of painful sips and set it back down. "His job wasn't to kill me," she announced, hesitating a little at the stunned looks on the faces of Felger and Hailey, the only two gathered around her who hadn't known.

"When Ferretti's team were sent back by the rebels, they were given a contact frequency. I spoke with the guy running the group who'd grabbed them, and we worked out a deal." Ignoring Ferretti's half-stifled snort of derision, she continued. "Everything that's happening around here, the war, the slavery, Minucius managing to have himself proclaimed a _hero_ for killing millions of people in a single attack, it's all a direct result of the encounter with _Prometheus_. If I'd left Minucius stranded in that nebula, he never would have escaped, and his side would have had no choice but to surrender.

"The rebels are holding me accountable for sending Minucius back, and they're demanding that I do something about it. As if that weren't enough, when I spoke to Minucius before, he was talking about expanding his territory once he's dealt with the rebels. He plans on moving on Pegasus next. Between the Wraith and the Genii, and God knows what else, adding this to Atlantis' list of things to deal with could be the straw that broke the camel's back. After that, his next stop is our galaxy – and even with help from the Asgard and the Jaffa Nation, we won't be able to come close to matching their numbers. They'd wear us down eventually."

"How does this lead to you agreeing to be shot?" Hailey demanded, as if asking a teenager to explain trying to steal from her parents.

"There's no way Minucius would just let me leave," Sam told her, "not without a very good reason. He's built up a cult around my name, and it's helped keep him in power. This way, he can cling to the thought that I might be coming back, and maybe even hope I bring an army with me when I do. The rebels are pretty hesitant about trusting me, but now we know they're willing to take the risk; otherwise, they would've killed me today.

"We're going to head back to Earth. I'll be meeting with General Landry, and probably General O'Neill, to try and figure out what our next move is. Minucius is too big a threat to ignore. We're gonna have to deal with him pretty soon. We just need to decide on how." 

Sam had never thought she'd see a room full of soldiers – and Felger – look so aghast. Teal'c and Bra'tac exchanged quick glances full of cryptic meaning, before turning to Sam, their eyes filled with something that looked annoyingly like pity. Ferretti, who had remained decidedly quiet since the previous day, when his third objection to Sam's deal with the rebels had gone ignored, stared pointedly at the ground, his expression like something out of the old Incredible Hulk TV series, as if he were keeping a very tightly shut lid on his rage, but would doubtless explode soon no matter what he tried. Hailey was clearly disgusted, but said nothing. 

Even Felger's expression was torn between horror and fury. Oddly, it was Kaímar who seemed most uncomfortable. His eyes darted towards the faces all around him, clearly confused. What his opinion on the matter was, Sam had no idea, as he hadn't spoken on it. He seemed to be checking with the others to see what a normal human response would be. Sam couldn't help but think that this might not be the best way to learn about human society. For one thing, since coming aboard _Athena_ he had yet to meet what most might consider a 'normal' human, and was unlikely to do so anytime soon. 

Sam was saved having to address the inevitable tirade of questions and concerns by the timely arrival of Dr. Brightman, who announced that they were taking up far too much room – she looked pointedly at T'ealc and Kaímar – and asked that they all leave. 

Sam herself was fit for discharge in no time at all, once she'd assured the doctor that she didn't plan on working for the rest of the day. For the second time in her relatively short time since the initial launch, the 'rudimentary' medical equipment provided for _Athena_ by the Asgard had been put to use, and the only evidence of the shooting that remained was a round, pink scar on the side of Sam's neck. Sam had declined the doctor's suggestion of one more pass under the machine to deal with the scar, was given two iron tablets, and ordered to rest, which she insisted she could do in her own quarters. 

She left the infirmary to find Ferretti waiting outside. He fell in step with her as she walked towards her quarters. 

"Permission to speak freely, Colonel?" he asked with deceptive politeness. 

"You've been doing a lot of that lately; I doubt I could stop you." 

"Well, you'd be right." Glancing over his shoulder to see that the corridor was clear, he continued, "One of the unfortunate duties of an XO is to let the boss know when she's acting like a complete…" 

"I've already heard your opinion," Sam told him shortly. 

"With all due respect, ma'am, I think you need to hear it again," Ferretti snapped. "You can't claim responsibility for what this psycho did after you were unfortunate enough to cross his path, and as an officer in United States Air Force, what you allowed to happen this morning was way out of line. It could be grounds for me to relieve you of your command and turn you in for a psych evaluation the moment we get back to Earth." 

"If you were going to do that, you would have done it _before_ this morning. Since you haven't, let's assume you're not going to. Are we on course for Earth?" 

"Yes, ma'am, but we still need to talk about…" 

"Then that'll be all. I'm going to turn in, before I pass out." She stopped and turned to face him. "Dismissed, Major." 

For an instant, he looked like he might strangle her. Finally, he gave a stiff salute and marched away, his fists clenched as he walked. 

When he reached the bridge, Ferretti assumed his usual chair and turned to Captain Sherwin. "How long before we'll be in contact range of Earth?" 

"We could send a recorded or data transmission now, sir. Direct contact will be possible in sixdays." 

"I left a written message on the main server," he told her, "encrypted for top level clearance. Mark it for the attention of General O'Neill, and send it on." 

"Yes, sir." 

TBC. 


	22. Part XXII

**Disclaimer:** We do not own 'Stargate: SG-1', 'Stargate: Atlantis' or any of the characters associated with either show. If we did, Season Nine would have been... different.

* * *

**Part XXII  
**

_**SGC Briefing Room**_

"So, all-in-all, not what you'd call a perfect first contact," Jack remarked, clearly annoyed. He glanced worriedly towards Sam for an instant, and then shot angry glares in Ferretti and Teal'c's direction, as if to demand of them why they had allowed her to offer herself up for possible assassination.

Of the other three seated at the table, Woolsey had remained silent since the moment Sam had begun her report, taking on a faint green pallor when she'd told them how Minucius' people had dealt with the rebel sniper, while Landry had only interjected once, to ask if Minucius had been specific in his mention of when he would attack Pegasus. Jonas had been sorting through notebooks, some of which seemed to have been borrowed from Daniel's office, somehow managing not to make a sound as he flicked rapidly through the pages, stopping every now and again to make a note in one of his own books.

It was Landry who spoke now. "Do we have any idea how many ships these guys have?"

"I don't know what the exact numbers are, but I would say that they number in the hundreds. His standing army is millions strong, and he can call on reserve forces on top of that. _Athena _could stand up to two, _maybe_ three in a fight, and she's more advanced than any other ship either we or the Jaffa could put on a battlefield, especially at short notice."

"If this did come to a stand-up fight, I think we could count on Asgard support," Jack noted.

"Even so, if it comes to a numbers game, this could be a big gamble," said Ferretti. "Their ships are a little less advanced than some of the ones we have at our disposal, but Minucius can call on hundreds of ships if he needs to. Even the Asgard have taken pretty heavy losses over the years. They could beat us through sheer numbers. Way I see it, we can't afford a war with these guys."

"Is there any possibility of negotiation?" Woolsey took a sip of water before continuing, addressing Sam. "If in fact this Minucius does see you as some form of divine guide, it stands to reason that he would open to the idea of _not_ conquering your people, if you advised him to take a different course of action."

Sam shook her head. She had already considered the possibility and dismissed it. "I don't think he believes his own press, not anymore." she said, "He knows I'm human, but he seems to think that it was the will of the gods that brought me to the nebula to help him. Chances are, he sees my return as a sign that he _should_ go through with his plans. His big claim to fame is his version of what happened in that nebula with _Prometheus_. Right now, it helps Minucius' cause if people believe the story, so he'll keep up the myth as long as he can – but if he ever started to think of me as a threat to his plans, and his own ambition, he wouldn't hesitate to get rid of me. It'd probably take all of ten seconds to find a way to spin the story of my death in his favour," she finished flatly.

Jack was about to speak, but Teal'c anticipated the question. "I do not believe the rebels capable of providing the Dominion forces with any great challenge. Their numbers are small, and they admit to controlling very few ships, none of which are capable of standing against those commanded by the Dominion."

"The operation that bounced Minuciuis into our galaxy took them almost two years to plan," Sam added, "and that was just to get one person into an appropriate position onboard his ship. Mostly these guys are guerrilla fighters. They did mention that they have quite a few sympathizers in the military, including some high ranking officers and ship's commanders; but most of them are too afraid of Minucius to offer any real support."

"What would happen if Minucius were taken out of the picture?" Jack queried.

Woolsey blinked a few times in surprise, as if not quite sure he'd heard what he'd heard. Most of the others seemed to have been thinking along the same lines, and merely looked relieved that someone else had brought the subject up.

"From what I can tell," said Jonas, setting the books aside, "their society is based heavily on the Roman Empire. Until Minucius took over there was a form of Senate, but they had no real power anyway. The military have always been the ones calling the shots.

"Minucius apparently decided he didn't need the illusion of a puppet Senate; he shot down any suggestions of putting anything like it together again once he'd claimed power. His position as Patrician is essentially like most of the Caesars; he's got the gift of the silver tongue, but he likes to use the iron fist as often as possible. As near as I can tell, he hasn't actually named a successor; his top general, Bruttius Agelastus, would probably have the best shot of getting the job, but in typical Roman fashion, it's unlikely that he'd be allowed to succeed just like that. When a Caesar falls, there are usually a lot of guys vying to take his place and if anything happens to Minucius, there'll be plenty of would-be Patricians fighting it out."

"Civil war?" Landry asked.

"According to Gaius Aurelius, it would be a pretty short fight. Agelastus would have most of the popular support. However, for the rebels' purposes, this would be a perfect time to raise some hell. Agelastus would have his hands tied for a while, dealing with his rivals, so anyone who didn't like the way Minucius ran things but was too afraid to actually do anything about it could take this chance to openly side with the rebels. They'd go from a bunch of rag-tag guerrilla fighters to something resembling an army; ships, proper weapons; they might actually pull it off," Jonas announced, finally stopping to catching his breath.

Before anyone had a chance to digest all of this, Teal'c spoke again. "It is unlikely that Artorius Minucius will be susceptible to an attack that would not result in many other lives being lost in the process. An assault upon his palace on Rhea Prima would require a weapon of considerable power to breach the shields surrounding the city, and the damage to the surrounding area would be significant."

"I'm sure we could work out something more direct than that, T," Jack told him. "That's why we have all those black ops guys we don't like to actually admit we have."

"Nobody would ever get close enough, sir," said Ferretti gravely. "After the apparent attempt on Colonel Carter's life, Minucius knows how easily that could've been him. I doubt he'll be making any public appearances anytime soon. And even in his own palace, he's as paranoid as any guy in his position would need to be, if not more. Food tasters, a personal army living onsite that can be with him in no time at all; and he's got at least a dozen guards in the room with him at all times.

The room was silent as everybody – even Woolsey – tried to think of a way to do away with Minucius without risking a war they couldn't win or committing mass murder to get the job done. Sam, meanwhile, closed her eyes and swallowed, steeling herself for what she was about to say.

"Not at all times."

An alarm blared, and Walter's voice came over the PA announcing an unscheduled off-world activation. Landry and the others glanced into the gate room long enough to see the iris close and reopen, and SG-4 emerged from the event horizon looking thoroughly bored. Clearly, whatever had brought them back from their mission early was no emergency.

Only Jack didn't bother looking out at the returning SG-team. His face had turned completely pale, and he never took his eyes off of Sam.

* * *

"What the hell?!"

Landry and Woolsey had retired to the formers office to call the President for approval. Ferretti, Teal'c and Jonas sat in the briefing room, apparently chatting idly, and clearly trying very hard not to listen to Sam being yelled at by her former CO.

"Why would you even _think_ to suggest that?"

"Actually, sir, _you're_ the one who pitched assassination," Sam responded calmly.

"Not by _you_!"

"There's no other way to get close to him. Nobody else could pull it off."

"What about those hologram things?" Jack barked.

"I was never copied," she reminded him. "They couldn't make it work on me."

"Or that stuff the Reole…"

"Anyone using it would have to get close enough to Minucius to dose him with it, and somehow get to all his guards too," she lectured, a little less calmly than before. "When I ate with him, he dismissed all the guards. Nobody there except me and him. I was never checked for weapons whenever I was there, and I wouldn't need to bring a weapon anyway. The moment I go back he'll insist on us having dinner again," she said, her face turning sour at the thought. "He'll never see it coming. A knife from the table, he's dead without the chance to make a sound, and I'm gone before anyone knows anything's wrong."

"That simple?" Jack asked sarcastically.

"Right."

"Wrong!" he snapped furiously. "You think you'll just kill him, walk away, and never think about it again?

"You think I'd shed a tear for the guy? He belongs in the Scumbag Hall of Fame, and it was me who gave him the chance to make his name. He murdered eighteen million people in my name, and now every time one of his soldiers guts someone or blows their head off, they thank _me_ for giving them the opportunity to help 'cleanse' the Dominion!"

"So I should let you go ahead with this so you can work out a personal grudge? You're an Air Force officer, Colonel; it doesn't work like that."

"No, Sir. I'm well aware of the chain of command. I report to General Landry, who right now is reporting to the President," Sam pointed out with almost unnerving calmness, nodding towards Landry's office. "Homeworld Security's mandate doesn't merit your involvement at this point. Officially, sir, you have no say in this matter."

The same deafening silence she'd been met with in _Athena's_ infirmary returned.

Before Jack could respond, the door opened and Ferretti poked his head into the hallway. "They're back," was all he said before disappearing again.

Sam began to follow him back inside, when Jack grabbed her arm. "Sam..."

She placed a hand on his, and speaking very slowly, she told him, "This can't be about that." She was gone before he could say another word.

Once they were all seated inside, Landry took a moment before speaking. "The President has given his approval," he announced gravely. "Officially, this isn't an order. The President said that if another method or operative can be found, then we should consider all options. Long story short: it's your decision, Colonel. If you can think of another way to do this, then do it, by all means. If there's no alternative, you may do whatever you think is best."

For a moment it seemed as if Sam hadn't heard him. She just sat there, looking at nothing. Finally, she lifted her head, and nodded slowly in confirmation. "Yes, sir."

When the meeting broke up a moment later, Sam was first out the door, not allowing Jack to catch up with her as she left.

**TBC**


	23. Part XXIII

**Part XXIII**

Since the moment they had set off following the brief return home, an uncomfortable, paranoid silence had filled the _Athena _from bow to stern. News of the arguments between the ship's commander and her second in command, followed by the even more heated rows between the former and the head of Homeworld Security, had spread all in record time, and if at any time people began to forget, they were usually reminded fairly quickly by a chance sighting of a member of _Athena's _senior staff.

Knowledge of Sam's purpose was somehow as common as knowledge of the arguments surrounding that purpose, and though nobody voiced an opinion, for fear of having the wrong person hear, it was clear what some people thought. Despite the fact that everything on board the ship ran just like clockwork, the discontent among the senior staff was so great it seemed almost like a thing of physical form.

When not on the bridge, Ferretti stalked the corridors like a storm cloud. Although he never actually seemed to seek a target to take his bad mood out on, it had become common practice to avoid him unless necessary, while Sam's performance as ship's commander had become quite mechanical; she spoke to nobody any more than she had to, and had taken to returning straight to her quarters when she wasn't working, no longer taking her habitual trips to the labs and engine room to tinker with the computers and various devices.

Jonas' desk in his office was covered in books and printouts regarding ancient Roman politics and war tactics. Jonas himself spent hours on end making notes on the similarities and differences between the Republic or Empire and the Rhean Dominion. Not long before they finally arrived at their destination, Kaímar walked in on him as he picked up a pile of the books and tossed them into a corner. The haphazard way in which they landed resulted in some pages tearing from a couple of them.

"I do not understand how such a simple thing can cause so much discontent," said Kaímar as he liberated the chess board from underneath a pile of discarded pages and righted some of the pieces. He frowned as he tried to remember the last position of his knight when they'd played the previous day.

"Honestly," Jonas admitted, moving the knight to its previous position without needing to even look at the board, "neither do I. My people have been killing each other en masse for so long that if this were happening on Langara I'd welcome any assassination if it would bring some kind of peace."

"Such things are not often done on Ultan," the Unas commented. "It would be more likely that such a situation, if it came about, would be solved by single combat."

"I take it that's because a straight challenge would be considered more honourable?"

"Yes. However, the Patrician's age and form may make matters different."

"You know, you can just go ahead and call him fat and old," Jonas told him.

"He is clearly gone somewhat to seed, and my first impression of him was that he was not a man accustomed to fighting his own battles face to face. If he and Colonel Carter were Unas, some would consider it better not to make him endure combat, when such a clear disadvantage would so likely result in his total humiliation."

"So there are times when the Unas would consider an assassination the better option?" Jonas asked as he considered his next move. The previous day they'd had to break up the game early when it came time for Kaímar to meet Bra'tac for combat training. Jonas had been glad for the break; after only a few weeks, Kaímar had proven himself a master of chess tactics, and even though Jonas' own game was improving with the challenge, more often than not he found himself being thoroughly conquered.

"It is not _often_ the case," said Kaímar, "but yes, on some rare occasions. Rare because an Unas warrior does not often live to an age where he would be struck by infirmity."

Jonas was dimly aware of the slight head-rush as the ship decelerated. Glancing outside the window, he briefly observed the mass of thunderheads over the Rhean capital city as the ship turned and the planet came into view.

"The earth-culture the Rheans stem from – the ancient Romans – you said they often carried out assassinations against corrupt leaders, or led armies against them."

"Yeah. But it rarely worked out like they planned," Jonas pointed out. "The best example is Julius Caesar. He did something a lot like Minucius; he seized total control of the Roman Republic, believing that he was their last chance to save them from themselves. It wasn't a race war, but Caesar made a lot of claims like the ones Minucius has used. He never missed a chance to brag about his family being able to trace their bloodline all the way back to the goddess Venus, and had a tendency to cite divine will as his reasons for taking unpopular measures he deemed necessary. "Caesar's assassins thought they were restoring the Republic to its former glory. Instead they ushered in the age of the kings the Roman people would live under for centuries. They brought about their own worst nightmare."

"And you fear that may happen here?"

"I don't know. The rebels are taking a pretty big gamble, but depending on how they play their hand, they could win out. The biggest factor is the officers who've offered their support. It could just be a lot of talk; people saying they'd easily switch sides once Minucius was gone, but not really believing anyone could get to him."

"And if the split of military force does not occur like the rebels hope…"

Jonas took out the black queen with his remaining rook. Both of them had lost too many pieces to achieve victory. "Stalemate," he announced. "Which is just about the best the rebels can hope for if they don't get the forces they need. They'll just have to take what they can and make a run for it. Find a place to settle down in another galaxy and hope they're not followed."

* * *

"You're all clear to beam down, ma'am," Captain Sherwin reported as soon as he got the all clear from the Rhean security officials.

"Thank you, Captain," Sam responded automatically, brushing a non-existent wrinkle out of the long crimson dress she was wearing. It seemed fitting that she should be wearing red tonight.

Teal'c, Bra'tac and Kaímar had each tried to persuade her to allow one of them to accompany her to the surface but she declined their offers firmly enough to let them know that there would be no changing her mind. She could understand their desire not to let her embark on this mission alone – for Kaímar, protecting her was nothing less than a sacred duty and, although she did not doubt that the two Jaffa respected her as a fellow warrior, they too could be quite protective of her at times – but she didn't want them to be placed at risk if anything went wrong.

Sam gently placed the miniaturized COM link in her ear, making sure it was switched off. "I'll signal you when I want you to beam me out," she told Ferretti. "If you don't hear from me within the next two hours, or if there are any signs of aggression from the Rheans, I am ordering you to leave this planet and get out of this galaxy as fast as you possibly can, is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ferretti responded. Although neither he nor anybody else on the bridge looked happy with that order, Sam didn't doubt that it would be carried out, if worst came to worst.

She nodded acknowledgment before indicating to Captain Sherwin that she was ready to go.

When she rematerialized, it was in Minucius' antechamber, a room near the main hall, connected to it by a long marble corridor decorated with priceless works of art, that was used for private audiences. Minucius was there to welcome her, flanked by Agelastus and another man Sam did not recognize, also clad in a military tunic, and accompanied by his usual troupe of bodyguards.

Minucius stepped forward, taking one of her hands in his and bowing before leaning forward to kiss her on both cheeks. "Welcome back to Rhea Prima, Lady Samantha." He greeted her warmly, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm and turning to lead her from the antechamber. "I trust that your journey back to your home world was a pleasant one, and that you were not troubled by any of the rebel forces?" He inquired solicitously.

"We had no trouble, Patrician," Sam said, forcing herself to keep a pleasant smile on her face and to resist the urge to tug her hand out of his grasp. "And my superiors were very concerned with what I had to tell them about the rebellion," she continued, "the President – our leader – asked me to assure you that we will be happy to provide you with our assistance, should you need it to rid this galaxy of the rebellion."

"A gracious offer, Lady Samantha, but I believe that the forces of the Dominion are sufficient to allow us to deal with our problems ourselves." Agelastus said stiffly, frowning at the implication that they might need the help of outsiders.

"General Agelastus!" Minucius reproved him sharply. "That is no way to speak to a lady, particularly one who is offering us her assistance and one to whom we already owe everything." Agelastus subsided but the rebuke had not improved his temper or endeared Sam to him in the slightest. Ignoring his general's scowl, Minucius turned to Sam with an apologetic smile. "Forgive him, my dear, for my sake. These past years have been particularly difficult for my generals, on whom so much of the burden of dealing with the rebel uprisings have fallen."

"I understand." Sam said sweetly. "I had no intention of criticizing General Agelastus' efforts, or those of his people."

"Of course you didn't," Minucius agreed complacently, "and General Agelastus knows this – do you not, General?" He added, with a pointed look in Agelastus' direction.

Agelastus gave Sam a shallow bow. "Yes, my lady. Please, forgive my rudeness."

Sam nodded. They were approaching the huge double doors leading into the main hall and, at a nod from Minucius, the sentries opened them, loudly announcing the arrival of the Patrician and the Lady Samantha. The nobles gathered for the banquet rose as they entered, bowing and curtseying and, as previously, they waited until Minucius had helped Sam onto the couch and sat down himself before they took their seats.

Forewarned by her previous dinner with the Patrician, Sam accepted the goblet of wine and the small delicacy, taking the ritual sip and bite that signalled to the others present that they might begin their own meals, then allowed Minucius to take her arm again and lead her through to his private quarters. She was a little surprised when Agelastus followed, but said nothing.

"I have a surprise for you, my dear," Minucius told her, sounding as though he was offering a child a toy, "one that I hope you will like."

When the doors to his quarters were opened and Sam was conducted into the room, she saw that the dining room was dominated by an object she estimated to be at least fifteen feet tall, draped in a heavy silk covering. Minucius nodded to two of his bodyguards, who tugged the covering away, revealing a huge statue carved from white marble, so highly polished that it glowed, as if with its own inner light.

Staring at the statue, it was a few minutes before Sam could find her tongue. The statue was of her, clad in flowing robes like a Greek goddess, laying her hand on the head of a kneeling Minucius in a gesture of blessing.

"Do you like it?" Minucius asked eagerly.

"It's… it's a good likeness." Sam managed, unable to tear her eyes off her marble counterpart, whose expression was so serene and so remote that she truly looked as though she was not a part of this world. The scientist in her briefly wondered how the artist had been able to craft the piece so quickly but she supposed that the Dominion possessed some technology that would allow them to carve the marble more quickly and more easily.

"It will soon be moved outside, in front of the palace, so that it may be seen by all of my people," he explained, "but I thought that you should see it first."

Sam nodded, finally managing to look away from the statue and to force a smile onto her face. "Thank you – I am honoured, truly."

If her tone lacked sincerity, Minucius didn't notice. His complacent smile was in clear contrast to Agelastus' disgusted grimace, which of course disappeared the moment the Patrician glanced in his direction.

"I'm pleased that you like it," he told her, guiding her over to one of the couches by the table as his servants began to troop in, laden down with dishes. Once the table was laid for them, the servants and bodyguards were dismissed and Minucius settled on his own couch to look up at her, while the general lowered himself slowly onto a third. Not quite relaxing, his eyes darted briefly to and fro for any possible signs of danger.

"There is another matter I would discuss with you, my dear," Minucius told Sam, "though the gods know that I do not like to mix business with pleasure."

"What is it?" Sam loaded her plate with a serving of vegetables and some kind of fish, preferring to have an excuse not to give him her undivided attention.

Minucius cleared his throat once or twice before speaking. "My dear, no doubt you will have noticed on your visits here that I have no family of my own; I never married and I never fathered a child."

'_Oh my God!'_ Sam almost choked on her mouthful of fish, horrified by the idea that he might actually propose to her and trying to hide her horror.

Minucius seemed to read her thoughts but, thankfully, he was amused rather than offended by the fact that she was less than keen about the idea of marrying him. "Oh no, my dear, you misunderstand me. If I were twenty years younger, then I would be honoured and delighted to offer myself as your most loving and devoted husband," he said gallantly, "but at my age, I fear that I am no match for so lovely a young woman as you."

Sam inwardly breathed a sigh of relief at that, wondering what it was he had in mind if not marriage.

"After you left to return to your home world, I held a meeting with my chief generals and advisors to inform them that, with your permission, I will call a public audience on the next auspicious day and formally designate you as heiress apparent of the Dominion, to govern when I am gone."

Now it was Agelastus' turn to choke, while all Sam could do was stare blankly at the Patrician, wondering if she'd actually just heard what she'd heard.

Seeing her shock, Minucius smiled. "I realize that this will come as a shock to you, my dear, but although I hope to live some years longer, I am not a young man and, if the peace and prosperity of the Dominion is to continue, if the people are to feel confident of a secure future, then I need to choose an heir. I can think of nobody better suited for the task and I am certain that, when we make the announcement, my people will rejoice to know that you are to be the future Lady of the Dominion."

Despite her efforts to ignore the cult that had sprung up around her name over the past years, Sam was not insensible to the power of the myth that she was an angel, an instrument sent by the gods to deliver Minucius from captivity in order that he might continue his work. Reverence for her fed loyalty to Minucius and, with the promise of his 'angel' to follow in his footsteps, his position as ruler of the Dominion would be completely secure until the day he died.

Directly across from Sam, Minucius' number one general had turned a worryingly pale colour, except for his thin lips, which had gone blue. If not for his mouth slowly moving while he gazed in horror at his master, Sam would have bet good money he was a rapidly decomposing corpse. He rose unsteadily from the couch, and mumbled something Sam didn't quite catch. The Patrician waved him off absently, but his eyes followed Agelastus all the way to the door.

Once he was gone, Sam found her voice again. "I'm not… entirely sure this is a good idea," she said warily. "Setting up an outsider as your successor; a lot of people would be upset by that idea. The general certainly didn't seem too happy."

"General Agelastus will go along with whatever I order," Minucius assured her. "If he disagrees, he'll do so by himself with a bottle of strong wine. He'll rage, scream, plot out both of our deaths in succinct detail, drink some more, then return to his post tomorrow morning and resume his duties. As for the rest of my people, I think you'll be surprised to see just how many of them will be delighted when the announcement is made. In fact," he noted with a smile, "I imagine the idea of your reign will be far more popular than my own."

"Oh?" She couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yes. I may have brought a degree of order to the Dominion, and to Rhea Prima in particular, but in all our history, there is not one man with more blood on his hands than I. And there is, I fear, more blood yet to be spilled."

"What do you mean?"

While you were gone, my security forces managed to capture a pair of rebel spies meeting in the city," Minucius explained. "They died during interrogation, but not before revealing that their leader has apparently devised a foolproof plan for my assassination. Of course, I've heard such things before, but these men endured quite a lot to take the details of this plot to their graves. Had they not been quite confident in its success, they would have talked. "Fortunately, there was _some _useful knowledge gleaned from their interrogation, which has led to the discovery of two sizable rebel encampments on other worlds. I believe that the man behind this latest attempt on my life, a rebel leader named Gaius Aurelius, is skulking at one of these camps. General Agelastus has given the order. Bombardment begins in ten hours."

"Bombardment?" Sam breathed.

"I'm afraid so," Minucius announced gravely. "When our ships arrive at the designated locations, they will immediately launch missiles. The warheads are powered with a rather unstable, but extremely powerful variation on a fuel sometimes used by our people. The blast radius on each planet will be almost equivalent to the continent on which this city stands. "I had hoped that by now Aurelius and the other leaders would have begun to see the futility of their cause, but it would seem that some people really never do learn. I must admit, I'm sorry it had to come to this."

At first, Sam said nothing. Shakily reaching towards the table where the wine sat, her hand moved past her glass to the cutlery. Minucius, apparently lost in his thoughts, never saw her hand close slowly around the knife handle. It wasn't until she squeezed the handle tightly to steady her grip, and faintly whispered, "So am I," that he realised what was happening.

She swung once with the knife, with all the force she could muster, and had to look away as she felt the blade make contact. Minucius, attempting to rise to his feet and cry out for help, barely managed a sound before his throat was ripped open from one side to the other and he fell back to the couch. The knife caught briefly halfway through its bloody arc, and when it was done, Sam winced in pain and grabbed her wrist as the knife fell from her hand.

She hunched for a full minute staring at the floor, gripping her sore wrist and adamantly refusing to look at him. It was only when the stream of blood began to creep into view that she forced her eyes upward.

The Patrician sat in an almost upright position. He leaned only slightly to the right, and his head was bowed to almost to his chest. Both hands gripped his throat tightly, the dark blood oozing through his fingers, mixing on the floor with spilled wine, only slightly brighter than the blood itself.

Eventually – after how long, Sam would never really know – his hands dropped away, and Minucius' corpse slumped forward and fell to the floor with a dull _splash_.

Sam felt the bile rise in her throat, and forced herself to swallow. Frantically, she felt around for her radio, before remembering the COM link. Activating the receiver, she took a deep breath and spoke as calmly as she could manage. _Athena_, this is Carter. It's done. Transport me directly to my quarters, then get us the hell out of here."

There was no verbal response to the command, but a second later Sam found herself collapsing to the floor of her small dining room. Lumbering to her feet, she rushed into the bathroom, barely making it in time, as she began retching uncontrollably.

By the time she was down to dry heaves, Kaímar was standing in the doorway, with a hand-towel and a glass of water. Sam took both, but had no sooner taken a tiny sip of the water than she felt like throwing up again. She fought back the urge, and slowly took a slightly larger mouthful, then wiped her mouth with the towel.

Kaímar, completely unused to such situations, said nothing. Eventually Sam managed to keep her stomach still long enough to speak again. "Tell Ferretti, when he contacts the rebel leader, to warn him that two of his camps have been found. I don't know where, but Minucius had already given orders to drop naquadriah bombs."

"Naquadriah?" Kaímar repeated uncertainly.

"They may have a different word for it, but Ferretti can tell them what I mean," Sam told him.

"Understood." The Unas stopped on his way out, and began to speak again, but apparently couldn't think of what to say. He turned away again, and left without another word.

The moment she was alone again, Sam pulled herself up and moved to the mirror. Small flecks blood dotted around her face, while her neckline, right hand and arm were simply covered. A messy smear sat by her ear from when she'd switched on her COM, which she now pulled out of her ear and tossed away, before tearing away the blood-soaked dress and leaping into the shower.

The water was icy when she switched it on, and she couldn't be bothered to do anything about it. Instead, she sank to the floor again, trying to keep from sobbing as the full realisation of what she'd just done hit her, and the image of her mutilated victim bored into her mind, resisting all of her efforts to banish it from her thoughts.

TBC.


	24. Epilogue

_**Reminder:** We began writing this story before Season Ten had begun showing, with our own ending to the shows events in mind. In this alternate timeline, the Asgard did not go out in a pathetic, un-Asgardly act of mass suicide, á la Coop & Co. They're still around, having played a part in helping to kick the Ori out of our galaxy._

* * *

**Epilogue**

_**Stargate Command**_

_**One month after the assassination of Arturius Minucius**_

In the two weeks it had taken _Athena _to make its way back to Earth, not a single transmission from either the Dominion or the rebels had reached them. Aurelius' people had not even bothered to respond either to the news of Minucius' death or the warning about the compromised rebel encampments. The only sign of the Dominion had been a single ship they'd seen looking for them, which of course it had not chance of doing while _Athena _was cloaked.

In the fortnight since their return, the same ominous silence had remained. Apart from the few required for essential maintenance, and one or two who opted to remain onboard for their own reasons, like Felger, who was working feverishly writing updates to the ships computer network – except of course when Adria was off duty, when the pair of them would disappear together – _Athena _sat empty at the Delta Site. Sam had spent the past two weeks buried in star charts, trying to determine the ship's next destination. Apart from one or two locations like a relatively close starburst galaxy, the only possibility, the nearest possibility that might warrant a high priority was Andromeda.

The other locations were of great scientific interest to Sam, especially the starburst galaxy, which was forming new stars at a rate of roughly 600 per year. Hardly significant in universal terms when compared to some which were thought to spit out over 4,000 annually, but the opportunity to study hundreds of forming stars up close in such a short time could potentially lead to a whole new level of understanding of the workings of the universe. Unfortunately, while she was reasonably confident the IOA would be in support of such an endeavour, she wasn't so sure about the military, who had the final word. Andromeda, on the other hand, was the largest galaxy in our little corner of the universe, and was known to have at least twenty satellite galaxies. Being far more likely to offer more diverse opportunities than studying stars, Andromeda was likely to be the choice destination for General Landry and the Joint Chiefs.

Standing hunched over a table in her lab at the SGC, Sam was dimly aware of the mobile phone dancing across the table. The ringer was switched off, but the noise it made dancing across the steel surface as it vibrated was loud enough. Sam ignored it.

From the moment she'd gotten back, she'd been frequently cornered by Jack, who kept insisting that they needed to talk. No matter how many times she told him she was fine, he refused to listen, and had even at one point hinted that he could force a psych evaluation on her, pending a review of her command position onboard the _Athena_, threatening to send her to talk to Dr McKenzie if she refused to talk to him. Sam had opted to call his bluff, confident that even if he forced her to see McKenzie, she would be able to fob the psychiatrist off and convince him that there was no need to worry about her mental health, and so far there hadn't been any sign of an official action.

She glanced briefly at the clock, and guessed that Jack – who apparently never spent any time in Washington where he was supposed to be based – would be having lunch with Ferretti and Teal'c, while SG-1 were offworld along with Kaímar, and was hoping to convince her to join them.

He had invited her to eat with him every day since her return, seemingly incapable of understanding that she wasn't interested.

Sam continued to gaze at the star charts laid out in front of her, but no sooner had her phone stopped dancing, than the stargate alarm activated, followed immediately by Sergeant Harriman on the PA. "Unscheduled offworld activation. Security to the gate room." A few seconds passed before Walter was heard again. "General O'Neill, Colonel Carter, please report to the Briefing Room."

Sam was the first to arrive in the briefing room, where General Landry was waiting. Jack and Ferretti arrived as she was taking her seat, and Ferretti, who hadn't been called, waited in the doorway until he received a nod from Landry, before taking a seat beside Jack, who sat directly opposite Sam. She could feel Jack's eyes on her, practically able to sense the concern coming off him in waves but she didn't glance in his direction.

"We've received a transmission from Antlia galaxy," Landry announced as soon as they were all seated. "Apparently they have a pretty interesting way of making contact. Walter says the message was carried from gate to gate all the way from Antlia, using some sort of macro designed to autodial and forward the message from one gate to the next. Something like our gateway to Pegasus, except the gates weren't specifically networked."

"Were we able to get a copy of the macro?" Sam asked curiously.

Landry shook his head. "It automatically deleted itself when Walter tried to copy the code."

"What was the message?" asked Jack.

Landry clicked on a touchpad button on the laptop beside him. An audio file began to play, and Ferretti shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he heard the voice of the man who had captured his team, threatening to use one of their heads as an envelope .

"This is Gaius Aurelius. Our war efforts are failing. Many of the military leaders who had promised to join us upon the Patrician's death broke their word. Agelastus has been launching bombardment attacks in all corners of the galaxy. We have no idea how many have died, as communications between cells have been seriously disrupted. Please, if you can send any support, do so. We cannot entertain any notion of survival alone. If I do not hear from you soon, I will attempt to rally what forces I can in order to break the Dominion blockades and leave this region of space," he announced dejectedly, "but again, there is little, if any chance of such a charge succeeding. Please," he begged. "Help us."

A heavy silence filled the room for a few seconds after the message finished. Landry finally spoke up. "The message also contained a second audio file, but there seems to be some sort of corruption." He clicked on the computer again, but when the second file played, all that could be heard was loud, screeching static.

"I don't think it's corrupted," Sam announced. "Probably a second copy of the macro in sound wave format, specifically programmed to carry our response back to Antlia. If we embed a response into that file, it should reach Aurelius pretty quickly. I'd like to see if I can copy the code without destroying it, but they've probably been pretty careful about that."

"Nice," Jack commented sarcastically. "They're asking us to win their war for them, but they won't even share their communications tech with us."

"Well, despite their unwillingness to trust us, we may have no choice about going over there and doing something to clean up this mess," Landry pointed out. "Minucius was talking about his plans to invade Pegasus, and I'm willing to bet that his number one general has expanded on that idea."

"Once he's dealt with the rebels, this will be Agelastus' next stop," Sam agreed. "If he's going to be secure in his new position, he's got to get rid of me."

"Aurelius' message wasn't all that specific about how many turned on them. How many ships do you think we could be dealing with?"

"I'd say about fifty or so, sir, maybe more." Ferretti supplied.

"And each one more or less a match for _Athena_," Sam announced, "at least that's what the last fight suggested, until we hit them with a mark nine."

"We should start making calls to anyone who might be willing to lend a hand," Jack suggested. "The Jaffa, maybe the Asgard."

"I'll pull Felger from the work he's doing on the ship computers," Sam added. "He and Hailey might be able to find something in the data from our last encounter with a Dominion ship, hopefully come up with a more efficient way of dealing with them. I'll work on upgrading our shields. Also," she added a little hesitantly, "I know this could be a pretty tricky issue security-wise, but if the Jaffa agree to join the fight, we should consider sharing any upgraded technology with them. The Dominion's ships are far superior to any Goa'uld mothership out there. They wouldn't stand a chance with their current configuration."

"I'll try and convince the IOA," Landry assured her. "Jack, you wanna try the Joint Chiefs?" Jack must have nodded his approval, as Landry then rose from his seat. "Alright, let's get to work. I'll send Teal'c and Bra'tac to Dakara to talk to the other Jaffa. The Asgard may prove more difficult to convince to fight. I'll let you know if I need any help with that one. Dismissed."

Sam was first out of the room, hurrying back to her lab to grab a couple of things she'd need to take with her to the Delta Site. Lost in her thoughts about the shields and weapons and what might be done to improve them, she never heard her name being called until Jack, losing his temper, snapped at her in a tone she'd rarely heard from him. "Hold it right there, Colonel!" he barked. A pair of airmen strolling by in PT gear suddenly picked up their pace, dashing around the nearest corner and disappearing.

Now it was Sam's turn to lose her temper. She rounded angrily on him. "Enough, Jack. For the last time, there is _nothing_ wrong with me! We've had this conversation a hundred times in the past two weeks; just memorize the script already, and get past it."

Not waiting for any kind of response, she marched off, leaving a thoroughly dumbstruck Jack standing stock still in the hallway, unable to do anything but watch her walking away from him.

**END OF VOLUME I.**

**Volume Two will begin in the not-too-distant future. In the meantime, we'll be posting "What Felger Did Next", a short series of one-shots set behind the scenes of Athena Volume One, following the adventures of **_**Athena**_**'s bumbling chief scientist. We'll announce here when the first of these is posted, as we will when Volume Two begins.**


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